SPUN  BY 
OLD  SALT 


to,.  «F  OUT.  U»*.  MS 


[Page  13! 

'  THE  BLOOMIN'  SHARK  WENT  HEAD-FUST  INTO  THE  HOLE  ' " 


SEA  YARNS   FOR   BOYS 


Spun  bs  an  ©It>  Salt 


BY 

W.  J.  HENDERSON 

ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 
1895 


Copyright,  1894,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


All  rights  reserved. 


TO 

MY   ESTEEMED   SHIPMATE 
THEODORE  C.  ZEREGA 


2130200      * 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A  TERRIBLE  CYCLONE ....  1 

A  LONG  YACHT-RACE 9 

A  CONVENIENT  WHALE 19 

A  QUEER  BLOCKADE-RUNNER 29 

A  REAL  AFRICAN  SWELL 38 

DINING  WITH  A  MERMAN 48 

HIRAM  DORKY'S  BERG 68 

A  TORPEDO  THAT  WAS  LOST 67 

ILL-TREATING  A  GHOST 76 

THE  DIVIDED  SEA-SERPENT 87 

A  MONKEY  CAPTAIN 99 

THE  BOYKING  ISLANDS 110 

AN  ACROBATIC  STEAMER 122 

THE  NORTH  POLE  DISCOVERED 133 

HOW  I  BECAME  AN  ADMIRAL 144 

A  VERY  HOT  CONTEST    . 155 

THE  UNSINKABLE  PILOT-BOAT ICG 

THE  PEACEFUL  PIRATES 175 

THE  QUEENDOM  OF  GIRLICA 186 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


" '  THE  BLOOMIN'  SHARK  WKNT  HEAD  -  FUST  INTO  THE 

HOLE'" Frontispiece 

" '  THERE    WAS    ONLY     ONE    THING    TO     DO,    AND    THAT 

WAS   TO   FOLLOW   AS   FAST   AS   WE    COULD'"    .       .    Facing  p.       16 

" '  THE  WHALE  GIVE  A  GREAT  BIG  SHIVER,  SENT  ME 

A-FLYIN'  INTO  THE  AIR,  AN'  DISAPPEARED '"  .  .  26 

"  '  OUT  CAME  THE  WHOLE  FAMILY  ON  THE  RUN,  THE 

KING  LEADING  '  " "  "46 

"  '  WOT  ARE  YOU  A-LAFFIN'  AT  ?'  SEZ  HE  TO  ME,  SEZ 

HE" "         "52 

'"HALLO!  HOW  D'YE  DO?'" "  "  64 

" '  WE  COULD  SEE  IT  RUSHIN'  THRO*  THE  SEAS  JESS 

AS  PLAIN  AS  IF  IT  WERE  DAY  " "  "  74 

"  '  FUST  YOU  SHUT  ME  UP,  AN'  THEN  YOU  MAKE  A 

ROW  'COS  I  SMOKE.  IT'S  TOUGH  '"....  "  "84 
"  '  HE  WINKS  BOTH  EYES,  DRAWS  BACK  HIS  HEAD,  AND 

THROWS  THE  IRON  HOOK  AT  THE  ARTER-BRIDGE  '  "  "  "  96 
" '  AN'  THE  BLOOMIN'  MONK  SAT  THERE  LOOKIN' 

SATISFIED  '" "  "  106 

"  '  STOMACH-ACHES,  W'lCH  THE  SAME  RAGES  WERRY 

BAD  AT  ALL  SEASONS  OF  THE  YEAR1"  ..."  "  116 
'"EVERYBODY  HAS  TO  GO  TO  SCHOOL  WOT'S  PASSED 

THE  AGE  o'  TWENTY-ONE'" "  "  118 

"'SOME  OF  'EM  LIT  ON  ME'" "  "  138 

"  '  AWAY  WENT  THE  STONE — AN1  ALSO  PUSOWYNEE  '  "  "  "  152 
'"CAN'T,  EH?  CAN'T?'" "  "162 


viii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"'EP  THIS  WEREN'T  so  BLAMKD  COMIC,  IT  'n  BE  GKT- 

TIN'  SEU'OUS'" Facing  p.  172 

"  '  THEM  THERE  PIRATES  WOS  ALL  TOGGED  OUT  IN 
SWELL  CLOTHES,  AN'  THE  FUST  -  MATE  WORE  A 
SINGLE  EYEGLASS'" "  '180 

"'YES;   THE  CAP'N  WERE  A  WOMAN'" "       "188 

"'IT'S  JUST  TOO  AWFULLY,  DELICIOUSLY  SWEET1.'"  .       "      "    192 


A  TERRIBLE   CYCLONE 

THE  Old  Sailor  sat  on  the  outer  end  of  the  pier 
and  looked  out  over  the  waves.  Henry  Hovey  and 
his  brother  George  stood  on  the  inner  end  of  the 
pier  and  looked  at  the  Old  Sailor.  They  knew  he 
was  an  Old  Sailor  because  they  had  been  told  so ; 
but  he  did  not  wear  a  blue  shirt  with  a  rolling  col- 
lar with  anchors  embroidered  on  it,  nor  a  flat- 
crowned  cap  without  a  brim,  nor  wide  trousers. 
He  wore  a  fur  cap,  a  short  coat  of  rough  material, 
and  his  brown  trousers  were  tucked  into  his  boot- 
legs. But  their  mother  had  said  he  was  an  Old 
Sailor  who  had  left  the  sea  and  had  come  there  to 
live  in  peace  the  remainder  of  his  days. 

"I  wonder  if  he  would  tell  us  a  yarn?"  said 
George. 

"  That's  a  good  idea,"  said  Henry.  "  Suppose  we 
try  him." 

They  walked  out  to  the  end  of  the  pier,  and  rath- 
er timidly  approached  the  Old  Sailor. 

"  How  are  ye,  lads  ?"  was  his  greeting.  "  It's  a 
putty  day,  if  ye  like  the  wind." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  George  ;  "  it  is  a  pretty  day,  and 
I  like  the  wind  quite  well." 


2  SEA   YARNS    FOK   BOYS 

"If  you  please,  Mr.  Old  Sailor,"  said  Henry, 
"  will  you  tell  us  a  yarn  ?" 

"Wot  kind  of  a  yarn?"  asked  the  Old  Sailor, 
looking  at  Henry  suspiciously. 

"  Why,  a  sailor's  yarn — something  about  the  sea." 

The  Old  Sailor  scanned  the  horizon,  and  laughed 
quietly  to  himself.  "I  wonder  who  gave  'em  the 
course,"  he  muttered. 

Henry  and  George  looked  at  one  another  anxious- 
ly. They  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  the  Old 
Sailor's  manner.  Presently  he  looked  around  at  the 
boys,  and,  pointing  out  to  sea,  said  : 

"S'posin' —  now  mind,  I  don't  say  as  I  do  —  but 
s'posin'  I  was  to  go  fur  to  ask  you  wot  kind  of  a 
wessel  was  that  un,  wot  'd  you  say  ?" 

"A  bark,"  answered  both  boys,  promptly. 

"  That's  werry  good,  too.  An'  s'posin'  I  was  to 
go  so  fur  as  to  ask  you  wot  was  the  name  o'  the  sail 
that  sticks  out  behind,  wot  'd  you  say?" 

"  Spanker,"  the  answer  came. 

"  That's  more'n  werry  good.  An'  s'posin'  I  was  to 
go  some  further  an'  ask  you  about  wot  course  she 
might  be  steerin',  wot  'd  you  say  ?" 

"North,"  said  Henry,  doubtfully. 

"  Northeast,  is  not  it  ?"  said  George. 

"  Not  so  werry  good,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor, 
again  laughing  one  of  his  hearty  but  quiet  laughs. 

"  Waal,  then,"  he  broke  out  suddenly,  "  you  may 
call  me  a  farmer  if  this  wasn't  the  way  of  it.  I'd 
ben  an'  shipped  on  a  bark  called  the  Central  Park, 


A  TERRIBLE    CYCLONE  3 

bound  from  Noo  Yawk  to  San  Sebastian  with  a  car- 
go o'  spectacles  an'  guinea-pigs.  You  see,  all  the 
people  in  San  Sebastian  are  near-sighted,  an'  have  to 
wear  spectacles,  an'  their  favorite  sport  is  guinea- 
pig  races.  Them  there  guinea-pigs  was  the  live- 
liest set  o'  quadrupeds  wot  you  ever  see,  an'  the 
boys  took  a  likin'  to  'em  an'  started  in  to  teach  'em 
to  chaw  terbaccer,  so's  they'd  behave  theirselves  like 
gen'lemen  aboard  ship.  But  the  old  man — that's 
the  capt'n,  you  know  —  stopped  that,  'cos  he  said 
it  'd  put  the  pigs  out  o'  trainin'  for  their  races  at 
San  Seb.  Howsumever,  that  ain't  neither  here  nor 
there,  seein'  as  how  it  'ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with 
this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  you. 

"  The  Central  Park  was  one  o'  the  gallusest  old 
hookers  wot  I  ever  sailed  on,  an'  I  ben  to  sea,  man 
an'  boy,  for  more'n  forty  years.  She  had  a  bow- 
sprit half  as  long  as  her  hull,  an'  a  jib-boom  as  long 
as  the  rest  of  it,  an'  it  riz  up  in  front  o'  her  like  a 
big  pug-nose.  When  a  man  was  out  on  the  end  o' 
that  jib-boom  an'  the  bark  riz  up  on  a  good  sea,  he 
could  see  right  over  the  tops  o'  the  masts  an'  down 
into  the  cabin  door ;  if  he  couldn't,  I'm  a  farmer. 
But  that  ain't  neither  here  nor  there,  seein'  as  how 
it  'ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm 
a-tellin'  you. 

"  The  Central  Park  were  a  good-sized  barky,  an' 
she  carried  double  tops,  wot  wasn't  so  usual  in  them 
days,  an'  had  a  spanker  as  big  as  the  mainsail  of  a 
yacht.  She  were  a  wall-sided  old  gal,  an'  w'en  you 


4  SEA.    YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

looked  over  the  bulwarks,  it  were  like  squintin' 
down  the  side  of  a  four -story  house.  She  could 
sail  ten  knots  an  hour  in  half  a  breeze  a  wind,  an' 
I've  heerd  tell  as  how  she  could  make  sixteen  in  a 
hurricane ;  but  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  that,  'cos 
she  never  went  at  no  half-way  gait  like  that  when  I 
was  aboard.  She  were  allus  driftin'  or  goin'  like  a 
express  train. 

"  Waal,  the  spectacles  were  stowed  in  the  hold, 
an'  the  guinea  -  pigs  between  decks.  Everything 
were  werry  comf'table — werry  comf'table  indeed — 
an'  we  was  a-havin'  the  prettiest  kind  o'  weather, 
till  we  was  eighteen  days  out,  w'en  we  was  in  lati- 
tude 92°  15'  north  and  longitude  206°  15'  west, 
which,  as  everybody  knows,  is  just  half-way  be- 
tween Coney  Island  an'  San  Seb.  It  were  a  dead- 
an'-buried  calm,  an'  I  were  at  the  wheel.  Our  course 
were  east-southeast,  an'  nothin'  off  ;  but  as  we  was 
a-driftin',  I  didn't  have  nothin'  to  do  'cept  to  keep 
the  wheel  from  turnin'  flip-flops  w'en  the  ole  gal 
fell  down  off  the  swells.  The  watch  was  a-lyin' 
'round  the  deck  half  asleep  in  the  b'ilin'  sun,  an'  the 
air  were  hotter'n  a  bake-oven.  Pretty  soon  I  seed 
there  were  a  kind  o'  queer  look  on  the  water,  an'  I 
took  a  squint  aloft  at  the  sun.  Bless  you,  boys,  it 
looked  queer !" 

The  Old  Sailor  paused,  while  the  boys  remained 
breathless  with  astonishment. 

"  I  waked  up  the  mate,  and  told  him  to  look  at 
it,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor.  "  He  jess  rolled  up 


A   TERRIBLE    CYCLONE  5 

one  eye,  said  '  Jakes !'  an'  went  fur  to  call  the  skip- 
per. Nex'  minute  he  was  back  on  deck,  a-yellin'  fur 
all  hands  to  shorten  sail.  The  ole  man  came  on 
deck,  an'  looked  mighty  ser'ous.  He  put  all  hands 
to  work,  and  in  an  hour  an'  a  half  or  so  we  had  her 
down  to  close-reefed  main-tops'l,  storm-jib,  an'  spank- 
er. All  this  time  the  sea  were  so  smooth  you  could- 
n't see  a  ripple,  an'  we  could  hear  the  guinea-pigs 
a-squeakin'  away  down  below,  just  as  happy  as  if 
they  was  a-winnin'  blue  ribbons  at  San  Seb.  It  were 
just  noon  w'en  we  got  all  made  snug,  an'  at  two 
bells  a  tramp  steamer  passed  us.  They  hailed  us, 
an'  wanted  to  know  why  we  didn't  hoist  a  handker- 
cher  to  help  us  along.  The  ole  man  says  to  'em, 
says  he :  *  Shet  up  !  You  fellers  '11  all  be  f eedin'  fish 
afore  mornin'.'  W'ich  were  gospel  truth,  'cos  they 
never  was  heerd  tell  of  again.  Howsumever,  that 
ain't  neither  here  nor  there,  seein'  as  how  it  'ain't 
got  nothin'  to  do  with  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin* 
you. 

"  Well,  young  gen'lemen,  may  I  be  keel-hauled  if 
we  didn't  lie  right  in  that  werry  identical  spot  till 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  before  the  storm  wot 
were  to  have  arrived  arrove.  An'  then,  my!  my! 
It  came  down  on  to  us  as  if  it  had  been  shot  out  of  a 
gun.  The  sky  turned  so  black  in  five  minutes  that 
it  shone  like  patent-leather.  Then,  with  a  yell,  the 
wind  came  down  on  us.  There  was  a  report  like  a 
cannon,  an'  our  big  main-tops'l  were  blowed  right 
out  o'  the  bolt-ropes.  The  old  hooker  heeled  over 


6  SEA   YARNS   FOE   BOYS 

till  her  lee  rail  were  in  the  water,  an'  then  she 
jumped  forward  like  a  skeert  cat.  But  before  she 
had  gone  a  cables-length,  she  came  to  a  dead  stop, 
an'  stood  straight  up.  The  jib  an'  spanker  was 
trimmed  in  flat ;  but  I  hope  I'm  a  farmer  if  the  jib 
didn't  fill  out  to  starboard  an'  the  spanker  to  port. 
An'  the  blessed  ole  barky  began  to  go  round. 

" '  Down  with  your  helm  !'  yelled  the  ole  man. 

"But,  bless  you  !  we  didn't  know  w'ich  were 
down,  fur  the  wind  were  on  our  port  beam  forrard, 
an'  on  our  starboard  beam  aft,  an'  wot  were  down 
for  the  jib  were  up  for  the  spanker.  We  put  the 
helm  fust  one  way  an'  then  the  other,  but  it  didn't 
make  no  difference.  The  Centred  Park  jess  kep'  on 
goin'  round  an'  round,  faster  an'  faster,  till  she  were 
spinnin'  like  a  top. 

"'Gee-menny!'  yelled  the  ole  man.  'We're  right 
in  the  middle  of  a  cyclone,  an'  we're  a-revolvin'  with 
it,  an'  we'll  never  get  out  o'  this  till  the  ole  thing's 
blowed  itself  out !' 

"  'Cos,  you  know,  a  cyclone  is  a  wind  wot  re- 
volves. So  round  an'  round  the  Central  Park  went, 
an'  in  half  an  hour  every  man  jack  aboard  were  as 
sick  as  a  gal  out  yachtin'.  By-an'-by  the  men  began 
fur  to  lose  their  senses,  an'  in  twenty-four  hours  all 
hands  was  ravin'  lunatics  exceptin'  me.  I  started  in 
to  turn  around  the  other  way  as  fas'  as  I  could,  an' 
fur  twenty-four  hours  I  kep'  sane.  Then  I  got  ex- 
hausted, an'  staggered  up  ag'in'  the  mainmast,  where, 
I  guess,  I  kind  o'  fainted  for  a  little  while.  When 


A   TERRIBLE    CYCLONE  7 

I  came  to,  I  found  that  I  were  still  the  only  sane 
man  aboard,  an'  I  wondered  why.  Then  I  seed  that, 
leanin'  ag'in'  the  mainmast,  I  were  in  the  middle  of 
the  barky,  where  she  went  around  so  slow  that  it 
didn't  have  no  effect  on  to  me.  Soon  as  I  seed  that, 
I  called  the  other  men  there,  an'  in  the  course  of  the 
next  few  hours  they  all  came  to  their  senses.  But 
the  cyclone  kep'  right  on.  For  ten  days  an'  nights 
that  ole  hooker  kep'  goin'  round  like  a  pin-wheel  on 
Fourth  o'  July.  Then  she  begin  to  slow  up.  The 
clouds  bruk  away,  an'  the  sun  peeked  out.  The  cy- 
clone had  blowed  itself  out. 

"The  ole  man  got  out  his  pig-yoke  an'  shot  the 
sun,  an'  found  we'd  been  travellin'  nearly  sou'west 
till  we  was  in  the  latitude  o'  the  Magellans.  You 
know  where  that  is,  of  course.  Waal,  there  was  a 
sea  runnin'.  We  shipped  water  by  the  acre.  Some- 
body said  that  them  there  guinea-pigs  must  be  all 
dead.  I  were  sent  below  to  look  arter  them.  Bless 
you !  w'en  I  got  down  there,  they  was  all  gone  ! 

"Fur  a  minute  I  were  kind  o'  dazed.  Then  I 
heard  a  squeakin'  down  below,  an'  I  knowed  the 
guinea-pigs  was  alive.  I  went  down  into  the  hold, 
an'  there  they  all  was.  But  the  spectacles  was  all 
gone." 

The  boys  looked  at  the  Old  Sailor  in  mute  amaze- 
ment. He  continued  : 

"  I  didn't  know  what  to  think,  but  jess  then  one  o' 
the  guinea  -  pigs  bit  at  my  foot,  an'  I  kicked  him. 
Waal,  boys,  he  rattled.  Then  I  had  a  notion.  I 


8  SEA   YARNS   FOE   BOYS 

picked  up  one  o'  them  guineas,  took  him  to  the  ole 
man,  an'  told  him  wot  I  thought.  He  called  the 
cook,  an'  told  him  to  kill  the  guinea.  I  hope  I'm  a 
farmer  if  the  critter  weren't  full  o'  spectacles.  Durin' 
them  ten  days  an'  nights  no  one  had  thought  o'  feed- 
in'  them  pigs,  an'  they'd  gnawed  their  way  down  into 
the  hold,  an'  filled  up  on  spectacles.  In  three  days 
every  guinea  died  from  indigestion.  So  we  put  the 
barky  about,  an'  sailed  back  to  Noo  Yawk,  havin' 
been  out  four  months,  an'  never  gittin'  anywhere 
near  our  port  o'  destination.  But,  bless  you !  I  hope 
I'm  a  farmer  if  this  ain't  the  sequel  to  this  'ere  yarn 
wot  I've  been  a-tellin'  you :  Whenever  I  meets  one 
o'  the  men  wot  was  shipmates  with  me  aboard  the 
Central  Park, 'he  looks  at  me,  an'  I  looks  at  him,  an' 
then  we  both  falls  to  goin'  around  like  a  pair  o'  cock- 
chafers, till  we  gits  so  full  o'  laugh  that  we  can't 
stand  up." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused,  and  looked  at  the  boys, 
who  were  still  transfixed  with  amazement. 

"How  do  you  like  the  wind,  meanin'  the  yarn?" 
asked  the  Old  Sailor. 

"  Oh,  very  much,  thank  you  !"  answered  the  boys. 

"Yes,  an'  it's  putty  good,  too,"  said  the  Old 
Sailor.  And,  turning  his  gaze  once  more  upon  the 
distant  horizon,  he  laughed  another  of  his  hearty, 
quiet  laughs. 


A  LONG  YACHT-RACE 

IT  was  a  dull  day,  and  the  two  boys  did  not  know 
how  to  amuse  themselves.  All  at  once  it  occurred 
to  Henry  that  they  might  go  down  and  visit  the 
Old  Sailor. 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  boy,  "he  will  tell  us  an- 
other yarn."  t 

"  Please,  sir,  Mr.  Old  Sailor,"  said  Henry,  will 
you  tell  us  another  yarn  ?" 

"  What !"  exclaimed  the  Old  Sailor,  "  weren't  the 
other  one  enough  for  you  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

The  Old  Sailor  gazed  out  over  the  water  and 
laughed  one  of  his  silent  laughs. 

"S'posV,"  he  said,  "I  was  to  go  fur  to  ask  you 
wot  kind  o'  a  wessel  were  that  one  out  yonder,  wot 
M  you  say  ?" 

"  A  light-ship  !"  answered  both  boys. 

"  Werry  good,  too,"  said  the  Old  Sailor;  "  a  light- 
ship are  wot  she  be." 

Then  he  indulged  in  another  long,  silent  laugh, 
while  both  boys  looked  on  in  wonder. 

"An'  s'pos'n',"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  "I  was 


10  SEA   YARNS    FOB   BOYS 

to  go  fur  to  ask  you  where  she  were  bound,  wot  'd 
you  say  ?" 

"  She  isn't  bound  anywhere,"  answered  Henry. 
"  Light-ships  stay  in  one  place  to  mark  the  direction 
in  which  ships  have  to  go  to  enter  port." 

Again  the  Old  Sailor  laughed  and  stared  hard  at 
a  mere  speck  on  the  distant  horizon. 

"Oh,  light -ships  they  stays  in  one  place,  does 
they  ?"  he  said.  "  Well,  sometimes  they  does  an' 
sometimes  they  doesn't.  An'  that's  wot  the  yarn's 
about  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you." 

Both  boys  were  now  eagerly  attentive.  The  Old 
Sailor  took  another  look  around  the  horizon,  and, 
not  seeing  anything  startling,  fixed  his  gaze  on  the 
rolling  red  hull  of  the  light-ship  and  began. 

"  This  here  yarn  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you 
are  about  a  yacht-race.  You  see,  once  upon  a  time, 
as  they  say  in  them  there  fairy  tales  wot  kids  ortn't 
to  read  ('cos  sailor  stories  is  better)  —  once  upon 
a  time  I  were  sailin'-master  o'  the  racin'  schooner 
Jabberwok  — " 

"  Could  she  galumph  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Could  she  wot  ?" 

"  Could  she  galumph  ?  You  know  the  Jabbencok 
always  went  galumphing  home." 

"I  don't  know  wot  Jabbencok  you're  a-talkin' 
about,  an'  it  are  not  perlite  to  interrupt  gen'lemen 
wot's  a-tellin'  stories.  This  here  schooner  Jabber- 
wok  were  a  wall -sided  old  hooker  an'  a  regular 
church  for  carryin'  sail.  Waal,  it  were  in  the  spring 


A    LONG   YACHT-RACE  11 

regatta  o'  the  Hog  Island  Yacht  Club,  an'  there  was 
four  prizes  up.  The  largest  class  were  schooners 
85  feet  on  the  water-line  an'  over,  an'  the  smallest 
were  second-class  sloops  an'  cutters  45  to  55  feet. 
You  see,  we  didn't  want  no  small  fry  in  it,  'cos  it 
were  a  extra  ewent.  The  course  were  from  a  startin'- 
line  off  Buoy  15  in  New  York  Bay  to  an'  around  the 
Sou'west  Spit  Buoy,  thence  to  an'  around  the  Sandy 
Hook  Light-ship — that's  where  light-ships  comes  in — 
a-keepin'  of  the  same  on  the  starboard  hand,  an' 
back  over  the  same  course. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  pausing  a 
moment  to  examine  the  horizon,  "  it  were  as  beastly 
a  mornin'  as  ever  you  see.  I  were  down  at  Staten  Isl- 
and aboard  the  Jabberwok,  a-waitin'  for  Mr.  Parker, 
her  owner.  Mr.  Parker  were  one  o'  the  best  ama- 
teur sailors  wot  ever  gripped  a  king-spoke.  He  had 
passed  his  examination  an'  had  a  pilot's  license,  an' 
he  was  a  good  navigator,  fit  to  navigate  a  ship  around 
the  world,  that's  wot  he  were.  When  he  were  aboard 
his  own  boat  he  were  jest  as  good  a  sailin'-master  as 
I  were.  Howsumever,  as  I  were  a-sayin',  it  were  a 
dirty  mornin'.  The  wind  were  no'theast  an'  fresh- 
enin',  an'  I  made  up  my  mind  that  we  was  a-goin' 
fur  to  have  one  o'  the  bloomingest,  liveliest  yacht- 
races  wot  ever  got  under  way  in  them  waters. 

"Mr.  Parker  he  came  down  on  the  judges'  boat, 
the  E.  Wl  flutter,  a  mean  an'  contemptuable  tug- 
boat. Mr.  Parker  says  he  to  me,  says  he, '  It's  goin' 
to  be  a  big  race,'  an'  I  says  to  him,  says  I,  it  were. 


12  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

With  that  I  hove  up  the  killick  an'  got  the  Jabberwok 
under  way.  The  startin'-gun  were  fired  at  10:40, 
and  we  had  ten  minutes  fur  to  cross  the  line  in.  Of 
course  Mr.  Parker  sailed  the  Jabberwok,  an'  as  usual 
she  were  across  the  line  fust,  a-doin'  it  at  10:40:47. 
The  others  followed  along  in  this  order :  Vamoose, 
Skeerwagon,  Pluffer,  Ollagawalla,  Tammany,  Young 
Duck,  Edwin  Booth,  Veracious,  Comet,  and  Get 
There.  The  Get  There  were  always  last.  The  Jab- 
berwok crossed  the  line  under  fore  an'  mains'ls,  work- 
in'  main-tops'l,  jib,  flyin'  jib,  and  fore-staysail;  an' 
them  sails  was  all  a-pullin'  like  they  was  mad.  The 
Jabberwok  tore  through  the  water  so  fast  that  she 
made  it  hot,  an'  steam  rose  behind  her  in  her  wake." 

The  boys  stared  at  one  another  in  open-mouthed 
astonishment,  while  the  Old  Sailor  gazed  solemnly  at 
the  light-ship.  Then  he  continued : 

"  Well,  it  were  jest  about  all  that  contemptuable 
tug,  the  E.  W.  J3utter,  could  do  to  keep  within  hail- 
in'-distance  o'  the  Jabberwok  a-goin'  down  to  the 
Sou' west  Spit.  When  we  was  off  the  inner  end  o' 
the  Swash  Channel,  the  seas  begin  fur  to  come  in 
with  a  kind  o'  savagery  that  made  me  know  we  was 
a-goin'  for  to  have  a  damp  time  outside  the  Hook. 
By-an'-by  we  rounded  the  Spit  an'  put  her  nose  ag'in' 
them  seas.  We  was  still  a-leadin'  the  fleet  about  a 
hundred  yards,  with  the  big  cutter  Veracious  sec- 
ond, a-comin'  after  us  like  a  scared  dog.  Well,  as 
soon  as  we  headed  up  ag'in'  them  seas,  I  felt  like 
goin'  back,  fur  our  bowsprit  began  to  climb  up  as  if 


A    LONG    YACHT-RACE  13 

it  was  a-goin'  fur  to  jam  a  hole  in  the  sky,  an'  then 
it  would  come  down  again  as  if  it  was  a-tryin'  fur  to 
knock  the  plug  out  o'  the  bottom  o'  the  Bay.  Out- 
side the  big  whitecaps  was  a-rollin',  an'  the  surf 
were  a-poundin'  on  the  Hook  as  though  it  were 
a-tryin'  fur  to  knock  the  p'int  off.  We  weathered 
the  Hook  all  right,  an'  soon  we  was  a-bilin'  past 
Buoy  5.  The  JablerwoJc  were  a  laborin'  —  maybe 
that  was  wot  you  call  galumphin' — an'  so  we  took  in 
the  main-tops'l  an'  housed  both  topmasts.  When 
that  were  done  we  was  a  little  more  comf'table,  but 
still  it  were  not  no  bed  o'  daffadowndillies  wot  we 
was  a-reposin'  on. 

"By  this  time  we  was  past  the  Scotland  Light- 
ship, an'  were  a-bearin'  down  on  the  Sandy  Hook 
Light-ship.  The  Veracious  were  on  our  weather 
quarter,  an'  seemed  to  be  a-gainin'  on  to  us.  The 
judges'  boat,  the  contemptuable  tug,  were  away  in 
by  the  Hook.  She  didn't  dare  fur  to  come  out,  fur 
no  yacht-race  had  ever  been  sailed  in  such  a  sea,  an' 
the  tug's  cap'n  were  so  skeert  that  he  wanted  to  go 
ashore.  Well,  boys,  sich  were  the  general  sitiwa- 
tion  o'  things,  w'en,  blow  me  fur  a  barnacle,  if  the 
wind  didn't  die  clean  out,  an'  leave  us  a-jumpin' 
around  there  helpless  like  a  lot  o'  cork  floats  on  a 
fishin'-net.  The  yachts  wot  hadn't  turned  back— all 
'cept  we  an'  the  Veracious — got  up  their  topmasts 
an'  set  club-tops'ls.  There  ain't  much  a  yachtsman 
won't  do  in  a  race,  but  that  were  a-haulin'  it  a  lee- 
tie  too  taut. 


14  SEA   YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

"  'Cos  why.  You  can't  never  tell  wot's  a-goin'  f  in- 
to happen  when  a  gale  o'  wind  drops  dead.  An' 
sure  enough,  all  on  a  sudden,  blow  high  an'  blow 
out,  out  comes  the  wind  out  o'  the  nor'west  a-screech- 
in'  like  four  hundred  cats  with  their  tails  stepped  on. 
I  heard  one  big  crash,  jest  as  if  a  house  had  caved 
in.  I  looked  back,  an'  every  one  o'  them  fellers  wot 
had  set  club-tops'ls  had  carried  away  their  topmasts. 
The  last  we  saw  o'  them  they  was  a-clearin'  away  the 
wreckage  an'  tryin'  to  beat  back  to  the  Hook.  Well, 
boys,  in  five  minutes  we  had  the  most  disruptious 
cross-sea  on  wot  I  ever  knowed.  The  Jabberwok 
seemed  to  sit  right  up  on  her  taffrail  sometimes, 
an'  I  told  Mr.  Parker  I  thought  it  wasn't  no  kind  o' 
weather  for  a  gen'leman  to  go  to  sea  in.  But  he 
said  he'd  never  go  back  as  long  as  that  bloomin'  cut- 
ter, the  Veracious,  stayed  out;'  an'  so  we  reefed 
close  down  fore  an'  aft,  an'  squared  away  fur  Sandy 
Hook  Light-ship,  the  Veracious  followin'  under  bal- 
ance-reefed mains'l  an'  spitfire  jib. 

"An'  now,  boys,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor, 
"  comes  the  part  o'  this  here  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin' 
you  wot's  goin'  fur  to  astonidge  you." 

The  boys  looked  at  the  Old  Sailor  eagerly  as  he 
went  on  thus : 

"  The  more  we  sailed  the  more  we  didn't  seem  to 
get  any  nearer  to  that  light-ship.  The  hands  for- 
rard  got  scared  an'  wanted  to  go  back,  but  Mr.  Par- 
ker wouldn't  hear  on't.  There  were  the  Veracious 
a-hangin'  on  to  our  weather  quarter,  an'  Mr.  Parker 


A   LONG   YACHT-RACE  15 

were  bound  to  go  around  that  there  light-ship  ahead 
o'  the  fleet,  or  wot  were  left  of  it.  But  we  couldn't 
get  nowhere  near  the  light -ship.  Mr.  Parker  he 
says  to  me,  says  he,  '  Heave  the  log.'  An'  I  hove 
her,  an'  I  reports  to  him,  '  We're  a-doin'  of  thirteen 
knots,  sir,'  says  I  to  him,  says  I.  Then  we  looked 
astern  to  see  wot  'd  become  o'  the  other  boats,  an' 
bless  you,  we  couldn't  see  nothin'  at  all  of  'em.  We 
couldn't  see  the  Hook.  We  couldn't  see  the  High- 
lands. Fact  is,  we  was  clean  away  out  to  sea  with 
ten  thousand  screechin'  furies  of  a  gale  a-blowin',  an' 
a  tumblin'  stretch  o'  crazy  sea  ahead  of  us.  Putty 
soon  I  made  out  that  they  wos  a  h'istin'  some  kind 
o'  a  flag  aboard  the  light-ship.  I  got  the  glass  on  to 
it,  an'  made  out  it  was  the  international  code  signal 
o'  distress. 

" '  Salt  mackerel  an'  buckwheat  cakes  !'  says  Mr. 
Parker ;  '  now  I  know  wot's  the  matter.' 

"  <  Wot  d'you  think  ?'  says  I. 

" '  The  light-ship,'  says  he,  '  has  gone  an'  snapped 
her  cables,  an'  she's  runnin'  away.' 

"  '  Wot  are  you  a-goin'  fur  to  do  ?'  says  I. 

" '  I'm  a-goin','  says  he, '  to  round  that  light-ship  if 
I  have  to  follow  her  to  the  Cape  o'  Good  Hope.' 

" '  Well,  sir,'  says  I,  *  it  won't  take  long  at  this 
gait.' 

"Then  I  looks  around,  an'  there  were  the  Vera- 
cious still  a-hangin'  on  to  our  weather  quarter,  an' 
bound  to  round  the  light-ship  too.  Blowin'?  Well, 
boys,  if  a  dog  had  tried  to  run  ag'in'  that  wind  it 


16  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

'd  'a'  blowed  the  ha'r  right  off  his  back.  We  was 
a-scuddin'  under  bare  poles,  an'  still  a-goin'  like  a 
express  train.  Well,  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  tell  you  about 
every  day  o'  that  trip,  'cos  they  was  all  alike.  The 
wind  hauled  more  to  the  west'ard,  an'  we  laid  our 
course  dead  afore  it  after  the  light-ship,  wot  couldn't 
go  no  other  way.  So  there  was  all  three  on  us 
—  light-ship,  Jabberwok,  an'  Veracious — whizzin' 
straight  across  the  ocean.  One  mornin'  the  look- 
out he  sings  out  '  Land  ho !'  an'  sure  enough  there 
was  the  Rock  o'  Gibraltar  right  over  our  jib-boom. 

"'Mr.  Parker,'  says  I,  'it  looks  to  me  like  that 
there  light-ship  were  a-goin'  ashore.' 

" '  I'm  a-goin'  to  round  her,'  says  he,  '  if  she  goes 
up  in  the  air.' 

"He  were  a  werry  particular  man,  were  Mr.  Par- 
ker. Howsumever,  there  were  the  Veracious  still 
on  our  weather  quarter,  an'  we  wasn't  goin'  to  be 
beat  by  no  sich  craft.  Well,  shipwreck  was  a-starin' 
of  us  all  in  the  face  when  the  gale  broke,  the  wind 
dropped  to  a  moderate  breeze,  an'  hauled  to  the 
east'ard.  An'  then  wot  d'  you  s'pose  happened  ?" 

The  boys  signified  that  they  were  unable  to  sup- 
pose. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  one  of  his 
silent  laughs,  "a  tramp  steamer  comes  out  o'  the 
Mediterranean  an'  takes  the  light-ship  in  tow,  an' 
goes  off  towards  America  with  her.  Well,  to  say 
that  Mr.  Parker  were  mad  ain't  tellin'  you  nothin' 
at  all.  We  fired  guns  an'  made  all  kinds  o'  signals, 


A   LONG   YACHT-BACE  17 

but  we  couldn't  get  them  there  fellers  to  understand 
that  we  was  sailin'  a  race  an'  wanted  to  round  the 
light-ship.  The  tramp  went  right  on,  an',  of  course, 
as  the  wind  were  so  light,  we  couldn't  catch  her. 
There  were  only  one  thing  to  do,  an'  that  were  to 
follow  as  fast  as  we  could.  An'  there  were  the  Ve- 
racious a-hangin'  on  to  us  just  the  same  as  before, 
only  this  time  we  was  on  her  weather  quarter.  Well, 
boys,  to  get  to  the  end  o'  this  here  yarn  wot  I'm 
a-tellin'  you,  we  sailed  back  across  the  Atlantic,  an' 
in  due  time  we  sights  the  Highland  lights,  an'  be- 
gins to  bear  down  on  Sandy  Hook  once  more.  It 
were  a  fair  to  middlin'  kind  o'  night,  with  a  light 
wind  an'  an  old  sea  on.  Putty  soon  we  sighted  two 
red  lights  dead  ahead.  Mr.  Parker  squints  at  'em 
through  his  glass,  an'  then  he  jumps  fur  the  wheel. 

"'There,'  says  he,  'are  that  bloomin'  light -ship 
right  back  where  she  belongs,  an'  salt  me  down  for 
a  codfish  if  I  don't  round  her  now  or  carry  away  my 
head.' 

"  An'  we  rounded  her,  keepin'  of  her  on  the  star- 
board hand,  accordin'  to  the  sailin'  directions,  the 
Veracious,  wot  had  been  with  us  all  the  time,  round- 
in'  at  the  same  time  an'  a  little  behind  us.  Then 
we  sailed  up  to  the  club's  anchorage  an'  let  go  the 
inudhook.  The  next  day  Mr.  Parker  saw  the  Re- 
gatta Committee  an'  claimed  the  prize  fur  schooners, 
an'  the  owner  o'  the  Veracious  claimed  the  one  fur 
sloops  an'  cutters,  'cos,  don't  you  see,  them  was  the 
only  boats  wot  'd  rounded  the  light-ship." 


18  SEA    YARXS   FOE   BOYS 

The  Old  Sailor  paused,  and  indulged  in  another 
long,  silent  laugh. 

"  And,"  said  Henry,  "  did  they  get  the  prizes  ?" 
"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  replied  the  Old  Sailor.     "  The 
committee    said    they  wasn't  entitled  to  'em   'cos 
they'd  gone  out  o'  their  course.    An'  whose  fault 
were  that  but  the  light -ship's,  I'd  like  to  know  ?" 


A   CONVENIENT  WHALE 

NOT  long  after  the  last  yarn,  on  a  very  clear  and 
calm  day,  when  the  sun  was  bright  and  the  sea  as 
smooth  as  oil,  the  boys  became  tired  of  play,  and 
decided  to  go  and  talk  to  the  Old  Sailor,  or,  rather, 
let  him  talk  to  them.  So  they  walked  down  to  the 
pier,  and  there,  as  usual,  sat  their  friend  gazing  out 
to  sea.  The  boys  often  wondered  what  it  was  that 
the  Old  Sailor  was  looking  for  out  there,  but  as  he 
never  told  them,  they  never  found  out.  Away  out 
on  the  horizon  were  two  three-masted  schooners 
with  every  stitch  of  canvas  spread  to  catch  the 
faint  upper  current  of  air  that  hardly  gave  them 
steerageway.  Off  to  the  southward  a  little  squat 
lead-colored  fruit  steamer,  with  a  gaudy  red-topped 
funnel,  was  rolling  lazily  along  on  the  last  stretch 
of  her  voyage  from  Havana,  her  lumbering  sway 
resembling  for  all  the  world  the  motion  of  a  duck 
walking.  Off  in  the  northeast  four  short  masts 
and  two  columns  of  smoke  rose  far  enough  above 
the  blue  rim  of  the  sea  to  let  the  spectator  know 
that  an  ocean  greyhound  was  slipping  along.  Half- 
way between  these  and  the  two  schooners,  but 
much  nearer  to  the  land,  was  *a  curious  old-fash- 


20  SEA   YARNS   FOR    BOYS 

ioned  brig,  with  a  very  high  poop,  a  top -gallant 
forecastle,  single  topsails,  and  a  bowsprit  that  stood 
up  in  front  of  her  almost  like  a  mast.  The  Old 
Sailor  turned  his  head  slightly  when  he  heard  the 
footsteps  of  the  boys  behind  him. 

"  There  she  blows  !"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 

"  Who  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  You,  in  course,"  replied  their  friend.  "  That's 
wot  we  says  aboard  o'  a  whalin'-wessel  when  we 
sees  a  whale." 

"  Were  you  ever  a  sailor  on  a  whaling-ship  ?" 

"  S'posin'  I  wos  to  ax  you  wot  kind  o'  a  wessel 
were  that,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  pointing  at  the 
old-fashioned  brig,  "  wot  'd  you  go  fur  to  say  ?" 

"  A  brig,"  exclaimed  both  boys. 

"  W'y  ?" 

"  Because  she  has  two  masts,  both  square-rigged." 

"Werry  good,  too,  says  I.  An'  s'posin'  I  wos 
to  ax  you  wot  kind  o'  trade  she  were  in,  wot  'd 
you  say?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Henry. 

"That's  werry  good,  too.  W'en  you  don't  know 
nothin',  say  so  an'  stick  to  it.  Mebbe  you  might 
learn." 

Then  the  Old  Sailor  stared  out  at  the  sea  and 
laughed  a  long,  silent  laugh.  "Now  I'm  a-goin'  fur 
to  tell  you  a  secret,"  he  continued,  presently.  "  I 
don't  know  neithei'." 

He  laughed  again,  and  the  boys  laughed  too. 

"But,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  "  she  looks  like  a  old 


A    CONVENIENT   WHALE  21 

whalin'-brig  called  the  Merry  Grampus  wot  I  were 
oncet  first  mate  on,  which  the  same  time  I  went 
into  some  werry  high  latitudes,  an'  come  putty  near 
not  comin'  back  never  no  more." 

"  Oh,  tell  us  about  that !"  exclaimed  both  boys, 
knowing  that  their  quaint  friend  had  another  yarn 
ready  for  them. 

"  This  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you," 
began  the  Old  Sailor,  watching  the  brig  and  shaking 
his  head  gravely,  "are  a  werry  curious  yarn,  an' 
it  all  happened  in  the  summer  o'  1848.  The  brig 
Merry  Grampus  were  commanded  by  Cap'n  Jehosa- 
phat  Snodgrass,  a  werry  tall,  thin  man  wot  did  most 
o'  his  talkin'  through  his  nose,  though  I  didn't  see 
no  need  o'  that,  'cos  his  mouth  were  as  big  as  a 
moorin'  pipe,  an!  his  ears  wos  too.  Howsumever, 
that  'ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  the  yarn  wot  I'm 
a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you.  Cap'n  Jehosaphat  Snodgrass 
were  mortal  fond  o'  carryin'  sail,  an'  he  never  were 
so  happy  as  when  he  had  all  his  stuns'ls  on.  So  it 
were  not  so  werry  many  days  afore  we  wos  at  the 
entrance  to  Davis's  Straits,  which  is  the  front  door 
o'  the  north  pole.  We  had  been  doin'  putty  well, 
an'  had  some  considerable  number  o'  baiTels  o'  oil 
stowed  away  below;  but  now  luck  fell  dead  agin  us, 
an'  it  seemed  as  ef  every  whale  had  gone  South  to 
spend  the  summer  in  warm  latitudes,  which  wos 
contrary  to  nature. 

"To  make  things  wuss  an'  wuss,  it  came  on  to 
blow  from  the  north'ard  an'  west'ard,  an'  Cap'n 


22  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

Jehosaphat  Snodgrass  he  ups  an'  he  says,  says  he, 
Til  be  bio  wed  ef  I'm  a-goin'  to  butt  agin  a  gale 
like  a  blooniin'  Flyin'  Dutchman,'  says  he  just  like 
that  to  me,  as  wos  first  mate.  '  Werry  well,  sir,' 
says  I ;  '  ef  you  don't  heave  to,  you  got  to  scud,' 
says  I  to  him,  says  I.  '  Then  let  her  scud,'  says 
he  to  me,  says  he,  just  like  that.  So  I  got  the  old 
hooker  under  a  close-reefed  main-tops'l  an'  double- 
reefed  fores'l,  an'  I  let  her  go  south-s'utheast.  We 
ran  that  way  fur  about  ten  hours,  an'  then  the  sea 
begin  to  git  too  high  fur  us  to  run  any  more;  so 
the  Cap'n  he  says,  says  he,  that  we'd  have  to  heave 
to,  arter  all,  an'  wuss  luck  to  it.  So  we  hove  her  to 
on  the  port  tack.  But,  bless  you  !  we  hadn't  much 
more'n  got  it  done,  when,  bizz !  the  wind  smacks 
around  to  the  sou'west  an'  blows  the  sea  out  flat- 
ter 'n  a  New  England  slapjack.  Then  Cap'n  Jehosa- 
phat Snodgrass  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  '  We  got  to 
heave  her  to  this  new  wind  on  the  starboard  tack, 
'cos  ef  we  go  on  the  port  tack  we'll  fetch  up  on 
Cape  Farewell,  which  the  same  it  are  a  werry  im- 
proper place  fur  to  fetch  up  on,  me  knowin',  'cos 
I  bin  there.'  An'  says  I  to  him,  says  I,  '  Werry 
well,  sir ;  I  don't  want  to  fetch  up  on  Cape  Fare- 
well, nor  no  other  cape,  'cos  dry  land  ain't  no  place 
fur  the  keel  o'  a  ship.'  So  we  heaves  her  to  on  the 
starboard  tack,  an'  there  we  stayed  fur  three  days 
an'  nights.  All  the  time  we  wos  makin'  about 
seven  p'ints  leeway,  an'  w'en  the  gale  broke  the 
Cap'n  he  figured  it  out  that  we  wos  not  fur  to  the 


A   CONVENIENT   WHALE  23 

southward  an'  east'ard  o'  Cape  Discord,  which,  as 
you  werry  well  knows,  is  on  the  east  coast." 

"  East  coast  of  what  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  East  coast  o'  Greenland,  o'  course,"  answered 
the  Old  Sailor.  "  You  didn't  suppose  that  w'en  we 
wos  in  Davis's  Straits  we  wos  off  the  Cape  o'  Good 
Hope,  did  you  ?" 

The  boys  looked  abashed,  and  the  Old  Sailor, 
after  indulging  in  one  of  his  silent  laughs,  pro- 
ceeded thus  : 

"Waal,  arter  the  gale  ended,  the  lookout  was 
stationed  ki  the  crow's-nest  agin,  an'  we  hoped  we 
might  see  a  Avhale  putty  soon.  We  hadn't  much 
faith,  howsumever,  'cos  we'd  never  done  no  whalin' 
on  that  side  o'  Greenland,  an'  didn't  know  much 
about  it;  neither  did  nobody  else,  so  fur  as  I  know. 
Howsumever,  it  weren't  so  werry  long  before,  while 
we  wos  a  standin'  to  the  sou'west  under  heavy  can- 
vas, the  lookout  sings  out,  'There  she  blows,  an' 
there  she  breaches  !' 

"  *  Were  away  ?'  says  I  to  him,  says  I. 

"'Two  p'ints  off  the  lee  bow  !'  says  he  to  me, 
says  he. 

"  Waal,  Cap'n  Jehosaphat  Snodgrass  he  comes 
on  deck  in  about  two  jumps,  an'  orders  me  to  take 
the  second  boat,  an'  he  wos  goin'  to  take  the  fust 
himself.  We  lowered  away,  an'  wos  just  a-startin' 
from  the  ship's  side,  w'en  the  lookout  sings  out 
agin,  an'  we  learned  that  there  was  another  whale 
up  an'  blowin'  about  half  a  mile  away  from  the  fust. 


24  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

The  Cap'n  started  with  his  boat  arter  this  new  one, 
an'  I  went  arter  the  one  wot  'd  bin  sighted  fust. 
Waal,  I  sees  when  we  begin  to  bear  down  on  him 
that  he  were  a  werry  big  an'  powerful-lookin'  bull 
whale,  an'  I  got  ready  to  have  a  lively  scrimmage. 
I  handled  the  harpoon  myself,  an'  I  sent  it  in,  as 
I  thought,  putty  deep.  The  whale  up  flukes  an' 
sounds,  an'  the  line  run  out  o'  the  tub  like  lightnin' 
fur  a  minute  or  two,  I  tell  you.  He  didn't  go  werry 
deep,  though,  an'  soon  he  come  up,  shootin'  half  his 
length  out  o'  the  water.  Then  he  started  off  fur  the 
north  pole  as  hard  as  he  could  tear.  Gee-whizz  ! 
— the  way  we  went  through  the  water  fur  a  minute 
or  two  !  Then  I  looked  down  at  the  line,  an'  I  wos 
scared  to  see  that  it  were  frayed,  an'  ready  to  break. 
I  grabbed  it  outside  the  boat's  gunnel.  Jest  then 
the  whale  gives  a  jump,  bang  went  the  line,  an'  I 
were  overboard  an'  goin'  through  the  water  like  a 
express  train." 

The  boys  almost  held  their  breath  in  anxiety. 

"  Wen  I  come  to  the  surface,"  continued  the  Old 
Sailor,  "I  were  a  hundred  an'  fifty  yards  from  the 
boat,  still  hangin'  on  to  the  line,  an'  bein'  towed 
through  the  sea  about  twelve  knots  an  hour.  I 
were  such  a  poor  swimmer  I  knowed  I  couldn't  git 
back  to  the  boat,  an'  I  knowed  no  boat  could  catch 
me  a-goin'  at  that  gait.  I  made  up  my  mind  my 
time  had  come,  but  I  says  to  myself,  says  I,  'I 
won't  go  under  till  I've  got  to.'  So  I  turned  over 
on  my  back  an'  hung  on.  As  long  as  the  whale 


A   CONVENIENT   WHALE  25 

kept  a-goin'  I  couldn't  sink.  He  kept  on  fur  I 
don't  know  how  long — two  or  three  hours  —  an'  I 
were  putty  near  dead.  The  brig  an'  boats  wos  out 
o'  sight  long  ago.  Then  all  on  a  sudden  the  whale 
he  stopped  an'  turned  back,  comin'  right  at  me. 
Then  I  gave  up  an'  let  go  the  line.  Of  course  I 
went  down,  an'  when  I  came  up  I  came  up  right 
alongside  o'  the  whale,  wot  were  lyin'  puffickly 
still.  '  Dead,'  I  thought,  believin'  I'd  sent  the  har- 
poon in  fur  enough  to  bleed  him  to  death.  But  I 
were  sinkin'  agin.  I  grabbed  out  with  both  hands, 
an'  by  good-luck  caught  the  harpoon  line.  I  hauled 
myself  up  to  the  surface  an'  got  my  breath.  '  Ef 
the  whale's  dead,'  says  I  to  myself,  says  I,  'he'll 
float.'  So  by  means  o'  the  line  I  climbs  up  on 
his  back.  Waal,  I  weren't  so  werry  much  better 
off  than  I  were  before,  'cos  floatin'  around  on  a  dead 
whale  in  the  North  Atlantic  ain't  such  sport  as  it 
might  seem  to  them  wot  hasn't  tried  it. 

"  Waal,  I  puzzled  my  brains  as  to  wot  I  were  to 
do  next.  Generally  speaking,  I  knowed  the  land 
were  somewhere  to  the  west'ard  o'  me,  an'  it  couldn't 
be  so  werry  fur  away  neither,  owin'  to  the  distance 
the  whale  had  towed  me  towards  it.  How  were  I  to 
get  there  ?  The  wind  were  now  a  fair  breeze  from 
the  east'ard,  an'  I  says  to  myself,  says  I, '  Ef  I  could 
only  rig  a  sail  on  this  'ere  whale,  an'  steer  him  some- 
how, mebbe  I  could  sail  myself  ashore.'  Waal, 
there  wos  the  harpoon  an'  and  the  line  —  one  spar 
an'  plenty  o'  riggin'.  But  ef  I  used  the  harpoon  fur 


26  SEA    YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

a  mast  it  weren't  tall  enough,  an'  I  wouldn't  have 
no  yard.  So  I  were  putty  much  puzzled.  But 
byme-by  I  jumps  up  with  a  new  idee.  '  Wot's  the 
reason  I  can't  make  a  mast  out  o'  myself?'  says  I 
to  myself,  says  I,  just  like  that.  So  I  takes  off  my 
shirt,  an'  with  my  knife  an'  yarns  from  the  harpoon 
line  I  soon  had  a  werry  good  sail  made.  Then  I 
had  an  awful  time  a-pullin'  the  harpoon  out  o'  the 
whale.  Out  she  came,  though,  an'  not  a  speck  o' 
blood  followed,  w'ich  struck  me  all  in  a  heap, 
till  I  remembered  that  he  wouldn't  bleed  arter  he 
were  dead.  I  bent  my  sail  on  to  the  harpoon,  an' 
then  I  made  a  parral  'round  my  neck,  by  means 
o'  which  I  slung  my  yard.  I  made  the  sheets 
fast  to  my  feet,  an'  I  were  ready  to  get  under 
way." 

"  But  how  did  you  steer  ?"  said  Henry. 

"  Wy,  I  just  rigged  lines  on  to  his  tail,  an'  w'en 
I  wanted  to  steer,  pulled  his  tail  fur  a  rudder. 

"Waal,  I  carc'lated  I  were  makin'  about  two 
knots  an  hour,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  "an'  I 
were  considerable  worried  about  the  wind  holdin', 
or  whether  I'd  git  ashore  afore  I  starved  to  death. 
Howsumever,  to  make  the  story  short,  I  sailed  all 
night,  and  as  soon  as  daylight  come  I  sees  land  dead 
ahead,  about  four  miles  away.  Now  I  wished  I 
knowed  how  much  water  that  whale  drawed,  so's  I 
could  tell  what  kind  o'  a  harbor  to  make  fur.  I 
looked  mighty  close  at  the  land  which  I  were  ap- 
proachin',  but  I  couldn't  see  no  inlet.  But  putty 


A   CONVENIENT   WHALE  27 

soon  I  did  see  somethin'  wot  pleased  me  a  heap  more, 
an'  that  were  an  Esquimau  a-comin'  off  in  his  dak. 
He'd  seed  me  a-comin',  an'  wos  bound  to  find  out  wot 
kind  o'  a  craft  I  were.  He  pulled  up  about  fifty 
yards  away,  an'  axed  me  wot  I  were.  I  told  him  as 
quick  as  I  could,  an'  says  to  him,  says  I,  to  please 
take  me  off. 

"  Waal,  young  gen'lemen,  before  he  could  make  a 
stroke,  I  felt  a  sudden  earthquake  under  me.  The 
whale  give  a  great  big  shiver,  humped  his  back, 
threw  up  his  flukes,  sent  me  a-flyin'  into  the  air,  an' 
disappeared.  Luckily  fur  me,  I'd  already  taken  off 
my  harpoon  yard,  so,  arter  sinkin'  putty  deep,  I  came 
up  agin,  an'  the  Esquimau,  who  had  made  a  good 
guess,  were  right  there  an'  grabbed  me.  He  pulled 
me  into  his  boat,  where  I  sat  puffickly  dumb  fur  a 
few  minutes.  Wen  I  looked  up  the  Esquimau  were 
a-laffin'  at  me.  *  Putty  good  joke,  I  s'pose,'  says  I, 
'  but  I  don't  see  it.'  *  Why,'  says  he,  '  you  ort  to  be 
satisfied.  That  whale  saved  your  life.'  I  says  to 
him,  says  Irl  That's  all  werry  well,  but  that  whale 
were  dead,  an'  hadn't  no  business  to  come  to  life 
agin  like  that.' 

" '  Dead  ?  Nonsense  !'  says  the  Esquimau,  pad- 
dlin'  me  towards  the  land.  '  He  were  asleep.' 

"  'Asleep?'  says  I ;  'with  a  harpoon  in  him?' 

" '  Yes,'  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  laffin'  still  more  ; 
'  you  hit  him  on  the  funny-bone  with  it  w'en  you 
struck  him,  an'  jest  put  him  to  sleep  arter  the  first 
shock  were  over.  It  always  does.  We  Esquimaux 


28  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

often  harpoon  whales  on  the  funny-bone  just  fur  the 
fun  o'  the  thing.' " 

The  Old  Sailor  looked  gravely  around  the  horizon 
for  a  moment,  and  then  concluded  thus : 

"  I  got  home  agin  all  right  in  the  course  o'  time, 
or  I  wouldn't  be  here;  but  I  'ain't  never  believed 
that  that  Esquimau  told  the  truth." 


A   QUEER   BLOCKADE-RUNNER 

ONCE  again  the  Old  Sailor  was  sitting  on  the  end 
of  the  pier,  gazing  out  to  sea  according  to  his  cus- 
tom. The  two  boys  were  approaching  him,  burn- 
ing with  a  desire  to  hear  one  more  of  his  wonderful 
stories.  He  was  unaware  of  their  approach,  and 
was  lost  in  contemplation  of  the  beautiful  scene 
spread  out  before  him.  There  was  a  good  whole- 
sail  breeze  from  the  south,  and  vessels  bound  in 
were  making  the  water  fly  around  their  bows  in 
clouds  of  smokelike  spray.  High,  wall-sided,  three- 
masted  schooners  were  marching  along  wing-and- 
wing,  looking  as  proud  and  stiff  as  militia  colonels 
on  review,  while  a  little  farther  out  a  magnificent 
four-masted  ship,  with  double  tops  and  skysails,  was 
gliding  on  with  the  easy  dignity  of  an  old  major- 
general  of  regulars  watching  the  volunteers.  The 
vessels  bound  to  the  southward,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  all  on  a  taut  bow-line,  some  on  the  port  and 
some  on  the  starboard  tack,  but  all  heeled  far  over, 
and  fussing  through  the  choppy  seas  at  a  great 
pace.  Far  out  on  the  sharply  outlined  horizon  a 
four -masted  Havana  steamer  was  cutting  her  way 
through  the  foaming  ridges  at  a  good  fourteen-knot 


30  SEA    YABNS    FOR   BOYS 

gait.  Half-way  between  her  and  the  shore  was  the 
most  interesting  sight  of  all  —  the  North  Atlantic 
squadron  of  the  navy,  or  a  part  of  it,  moving  majes- 
tically along  ,at  ten  knots  an  hour  towards  New 
York.  The  Philadelphia,  rolling  uneasily  as  is  her 
wont,  was  at  the  head  of  the  fleet,  flying  the  Ad- 
miral's flag  ;  the  stanch  and  threatening  Atlanta 
followed  ;  then  came  the  picturesque  monitor  Mian- 
tonomoh  /  and  last  of  all  the  trim  dynamite  cruiser 
Vesuvius.  It  was  upon  this  handsome  fleet  that  the 
Old  Sailor's  gaze  was  fastened  when  the  boys  went 
up  and  bade  him  good-morning. 

"Good-mornin'  to  you,  my  lads,"  he  said.  "An' 
wot  might  you  s'pose  that  to  be  ?"  He  pointed  at 
the  sailing  ship. 

"  A  four-masted  ship,"  answered  both  boys. 

"  An'  w'en  a  ship  has  four  masts  instead  o'  three, 
w'ich  is  accordin'  to  nature,  wot  d'  ye  call  the  last 
mast  o'  the  four  ?" 


"  Werry  good,  too.  An'  wot  d'  ye  call  that  out 
yonder  ?"  He  pointed  to  the  steamer. 

"  Why,"  said  Henry,  "  that's  a  steamer,  of  course." 

"Of  course,  says  you.  But  where  d'  ye  s'pose  she 
might  be  bound  ?" 

"  Charleston  ?" 

"  Savannah  ?" 

"Not  so  werry  good,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  after 
indulging  in  one  of  his  quiet  laughs.  "  That's  guess- 
in',  an'  guessin'  ain't  knowin'.  That  steamer  are 


A    QTJEEK   BLOCKADE-RUNNER  31 

bound  fur  Havana,  an'  she  ain't  bound  fur  nowhere 
else." 

"  But  how  can  you  tell  that  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  I  knows  it  by  her  build.  She's  a  Morgan  liner, 
an'  that  means  she  are  bound  fur  Havana.  But  I 
'ain't  said  nothin'  yet  about  the  most  important  wes- 
sels  wot  is  under  our  obserwation."  So  saying,  the 
Old  Sailor  gravely  turned  his  back  on  the  boys,  who 
gazed  wonderingly  over  the  animated  waters. 

"  Oh,  I  see !"  exclaimed  Henry.  "  They  are  war- 
ships." 

"  Werry  good,  too,  says  you/'  said  the  Old 
Sailor,  bestowing  a  glance  of  approval  on  his  young 
friend.  "Them  is  war- ships.  How  might  you 
know  that  ?" 

"I  can  tell  them  from  the  pictures  I've  seen  in 
HARPER'S  WEEKLY,"  said  Henry. 

"  W'ich  goes  fur  to  show  that  picture  papers  is 
some  good.  Now,  could  you  tell  the  names  o'  them 
ships  ?" 

"I  know  one,"  answered  Henry.  "The  little  flat 
one  with  two  turrets  and  one  short  mast  is  the  Mi- 
antonomoh." 

"Werry  good,  too,  says  you.  An'  the  other  ones 
is  the  Philadelphia,  the  Atlanta,  an'  the  Vesuvius. 
Them  'ere  wessels  has  set  me  a-thinkin'  about  old 
times,  because  they's  so  different  from  the  sort  of 
wessels  wot  we  had  in  the  war." 

"  Were  you  ever  a  sailor  on  a  war-ship  ?" 

"My  son,  I  were.     There  ain't  no  kind  o'  hooker 


32  SEA   YAKNS   FOR   BOYS 

trayversin'  the  great  deep  wot  I  'ain't  served  on 
somehow  an'  somewhere." 

"  Did  you  ever  fire  a  cannon  ?" 

"Yes,  an'  also  the  cannoneer.  An'  I've  been  in 
fights,  too;  but  none  o'  'em  warn't  nothin'  alongside 
o'  the  fun  we  had  with  blockade-runners." 

"  What  are  they  ?" 

"  Waal,  you  see  it's  like  this.  A  seaport  town 
depends  putty  largely  on  wessels  fur  its  supplies. 
Now  durin'  the  war  a  fleet  o'  United  States  wessels 
would  lie  off  the  harbor  o'  a  Confederate  town,  an' 
stop  every  craft  wot  tried  to  git  in  or  out.  The 
blockade  -  runners  wos  fast  steamers  wot  made  it 
their  business  to  slip  through  the  fleet  an'  git  in  with 
supplies.  D'  ye  see  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Henry.  "It  must  have  been 
mighty  dangerous  work." 

"  Waal,  generally  it  were.  'Cos  w'y,  no  matter 
how  keerful  they  might  be  about  paintin'  their  ships 
lead-color  an'  runnin'  in  on  thick  nights,  sometimes 
we  wos  bound  to  see  'em,  an'  then  the  way  we'd  let 
loose  on  to  'em  with  our  great  guns  wos  a  sight  fur 
blind  mice.  I  tell  you  they  must  'a'  been  mighty 
plucky  fellers  to  run  in  through  sich  fire  as  we  give 
'em  sometimes;  but  they  done  it,  they  did — that  is, 
they  all  done  it  'ceptin'  one,  an'  he  run  the  blockade 
by  stayin'  outside." 

"Oh,  how  was  that?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Waal,  the  incidents  o'  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a- 
goin'  fur  to  tell  you  took  place  in  the  summer  o' 


A    QUEER   BLOCKADE-RUNNER  33 

1863,  w'en  a  blockadin'  fleet  o'  no  less  'n  thirty  Union 
wessels  wos  a-lyin'  at  anchor  outside  o'  Charleston. 
I  war  a-sarvin'  aboard  the  George  Washington,  which 
the  same  she  war  a  old-fashioned,  brig-rigged  sideT 
wheeler,  an'  carried  six  eight -inch  Dahlgren  guns. 
We  wos  a-layin'  on  the  outside  o'  the  whole  fleet, 
'cos  we  wos  considered  werry  fast,  an'  it  were  our 
business  fur  to  chase  any  wessel  wot  got  past  the 
rest  o'  the  fleet  corain'  out.  One  afternoon  I  war  on 
lookout  at  the  mast  -  head  an'  I  sees  a  light  thin 
smoke  away  down  on  the  southern  horizon.  So  I 
sings  out,  'Steamer  ho!'  An'  the  ossifer  o'  the 
deck  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  'Were  away?'  '  Three 
points  off  the  port  bow,'  says  I  to  him,  says  I,  just 
like  that.  'Keep  your  eye  on  her,'  says  he.  An' 
that's  wot  I  war  a-doin'  of  all  the  time ;  but  I  Didn't 
say  nothin'  'ceptin',  'Aye,  aye,  sir,'  'cos  it  aren't  con- 
sidered perlite  to  say  werry  much  to  the  ossifer  o' 
the  deck.  This  'ere  steamer  she  come  right  along, 
an'  soon  I  made  her  out  to  be  a  fast  side-wheeler, 
but  she  weren't  painted  no  lead-color.  The  ossifer 
o'  the  deck  called  the  cap'n,  an'  he  ordered  the  crew 
to  quarters." 

"  What  is  that  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"W'en  you  go  to  quarters,  you  get  everything 
ready  fur  to  fight,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor.  "  But, 
bless  me,  if  this  'ere  steamer  didn't  stop  just  out  o' 
range  an'  lay  a-rollin'  on  the  swell.  Then  we  got  a 
signal  from  the  commandin'  ossifer  o'  our  squadron 
to  chase  her.  You  see  there  warn't  no  doubt  now 

3 


34  SEA    YARNS   FOB    BOYS 

but  she  war  a  blockade-runner,  but  we  couldn't  see 
wot  she  meant  by  runnin'  right  up  to  us  in  daytime. 
Waal,  we  hove  up  the  anchor  an'  started,  but,  bless 
you  !  she  just  run  away  from  us.  But  that  warn't 
the  wust  on't.  Wen  we  turned  around  to  come 
back,  so  did  she,  keepin'  out  o'  range  all  the  time. 
We  turned  around  an'  chased  her  again,  but  as  soon 
as  we  started  back  so  did  she.  Waal,  would  you 
believe  it,  we  kept  that  up  till  dark ;  an'  then  there 
she  war  a-lyin'  just  out  o'  range  o'  the  whole  fleet." 

The  Old  Sailor  looked  around  the  horizon,  indulged 
in  a  quiet  laugh,  and  went  on  thus  : 

"  By  order  o'  the  squadron  commander  all  lookouts 
were  doubled,  an'  we  stood  by  to  give  that  there  wes- 
sel  rats  if  she  tried  to  run  in.  But  w'en  the  day 
broke  there  she  wos  a-lyin'  in  the  same  spot.  We  got 
up  the  George  Washington's  anchor  an'  gave  chase. 
Bless  you,  it  war  the  same  business  all  over  again. 
She'd  run  away,  an'  come  back  w'en  we  did ;  an'  at 
nightfall  the  next  night  there  she  war  still.  The 
next  night  war  a  clear  moonlight  one,  an'  we  knowed 
she  couldn't  get  in.  Still  we  watched  close.  About 
two  bells  in  the  fust  watch,  w'ich  the  same  that  is 
9  P.M.,  I  seed  a  queer-lookin'  craft  comin'  out.  It 
war  low  and  flat,  an'  didn't  have  no  masts  nor  no 
smoke-stack.  All  the  same  it  wos  a-goin'  along  at  a 
ten-knot  gait.  I  tell  you  wot,  boys,  it  give  us  sailor- 
men  the  shivers,  fur  it  looked  edzackly  like  a  ghost 
of  a  wrecked  ship  ;  an'  that's  wot  we  thought  it  war. 
'No  good  o'  firin'  at  that  thing,'  said  Pete  Martin  ; 


A   QUEER   BLOCKADE-RUNNER  35 

four  shots  'd  go  through  them  sides  an'  never  hit 
nothin'  at  all.'  All  the  same,  the  cap'n  give  orders 
to  let  her  have  it,  and  we  opened  fire." 

"Did  you  hither?" 

"Hit  your  grandmother's  sneeze!"  exclaimed  the 
Old  Sailor.  "No,  we  didn't  hit  her.  Pete  Martin 
vowed  he  saw  one  ball  go  straight  through  her,  and 
it  looked  like  a  ball  goin'  through  a  cloud  o'  smoke. 
She  went  right  on  an'  fetched  up  alongside  o'  the 
curious  steamer.  There  she  stayed  all  night,  an'  we 
could  see  'em  lowerin'  away  stuff  off  the  steamer 
into  this  'ere  canal-boat-lookin'  craft.  The  cap'n 
said  we'd  sink  her  sure  as  she  tried  to  run  in.  Tow- 
ards mornin'  she  started  at  the  liveliest  kind  o'  a 
gait.  Every  one  o'  our  wessels  in  range  o'  her 
opened  up,  an'  there  war  noise  enough  to  scare  a 
boiler-maker.  One  shot  struck  the  water  about  a 
cable's  length  ahead  o'  the  queer  craft.  Then  there 
rose  up  a  big  boilin'  cloud  o'  spray  right  w'ere  the 
shot  struck,  an'  the  next  thing  we  kuowed  that  'ere 
craft  jumped  forward  at  a  seventeen-knot  gait,  an' 
jist  fairly  flew  into  the  harbor.  Pete  Martin  says 
he  to  me,  says  he,  'They've  got  old  Davy  Jones 
hitched  to  her  with  a  tow-rope  and  he's  a-pullin'  o' 
her.'  An'  blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  it  didn't  look  as  ef 
Pete  war  right ! 

"The  next  mornin',"  continued  the  Old  Sailor, 
"  the  strange  steamer  went  away,  but  in  a  week  she 
came  back,  an'  the  same  fun  begins  all  over  again. 
On  the  second  day,  while  we  wos  a-watchin'  the 


36  SEA   YARNS   FOE   BOYS 

strange  steamer,  we  seed  a  whale.  It  wos  a  curious 
thing  that  a  whale  should  be  around  there,  an'  Pete 
Martin  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  '  That  whale  smells 
a  thrasher.' " 

"  What  is  that  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"It  are  a  kind  o'  shark,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor, 
"  wot  fights  by  thrashin'  with  his  tail.  I  didn't  say 
nothin',  but  jest  kep'  a-watchin'.  That  night  we  wos 
ordered  to  man  the  boats  an'  try  to  board  the  ghost- 
boat  w'en  it  war  returnin'  from  the  strange  steamer. 
Sure  enough,  it  came  out,  rushin'  along  in  the  same 
old  spooky  sort  of  a  way,  without  no  noise  an'  no 
sign  o'  steam  or  sail.  There  come  putty  nigh  bein' 
a  mutiny  among  the  crew  o'  the  George  Washington, 
'cos  we  didn't  want  to  board  no  sich  wessel ;  but  the 
ossifers  was  detarmiried,  an'  so  we  stood  by.  While 
we  wos  a-waitin'  I  heerd  the  whale  blow,  an',  sure 
enough,  there  he  war,  not  more  'n  fifty  yards  away 
from  us,  lyin'  quiet  on  the  sea.  Putty  soon  the 
ghost-boat  started  fur  home,  an'  we  got  our  cutlasses 
an'  rewolwers  ready  fur  business.  An'  now  comes 
the  funny  part." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused  a  moment  while  the  boys 
waited  anxiously  to  hear  the  rest  of  his  yarn. 

"  Jess  as  the  ghost-boat  war  bearin'  down  on  us," 
he  continued,  "I  seed  that  whale  give  himself  a 
shake  an'  go  down.  Then  all  on  a  suddent,  about  a 
cable's  length  ahead  o'  the  ghost-boat,  there  began 
the  liveliest  sort  o'  a  scrimmage.  The  sea  boiled  an' 
the  whale  come  a-shootin'  out  half  his  length.  The 


A    QUEER    BLOCKADE-RUNNER  37 

next  second  another  fish  shot  into  the  air  an'  come 
down  on  the  water  with  the  report  o'  a  cannon. 
Flop,  flop,  bang,  swash,  swizzle !  My,  my !  You 
never  seed  such  a  row!  An'  the  ghost-boat  come  to 
a  dead  stop  !  Bang,  bang  !  went  the  whale  an'  the 
other  fish  fur  about  five  minutes  !  '  Give  way !'  yells 
the  ossifers.  But  bless  you,  not  a  sailor-man  could 
move.  We  wos  all  flabbergasted.  Waal,  the  rumpus 
came  to  an  end,  an'  wot  do  you  think  we  seed  ?" 

"What?" 

"  That  there  whale  was  deader  'n  a  door-nail,  an' 
right  alongside  o'  him  war  layin'  a  thrasher,  w'ich 
the  same  war  deader  than  another  door-nail.  'By 
the  great  horn  spoon !'  says  Pete  Martin,  just  like 
that,  *  they  had  that  thrasher  towin'  that  ghost-boat, 
an'  it  ain't  no  ghost-boat  at  all.'  An'  in  less  'n  two 
minutes  we  wos  aboard  the  queer  craft,  an'  she  war 
ours.  Her  cap'n  war  a-sittin'  flat  on  the  deck  a-cryin' 
as  if  his  heart  'd  break.  '  Oh  dear^  oh  dear  !'  says 
he,  '  my  thrasher  is  dead  !  my  thrasher  is  dead  !  An' 
I  loved  him  like  he  war  my  own  child,  w'ich  the 
same  he  war,  seein'  that  I  brought  him  up  myself 
from  the  egg,  an'  taught  him  to  fetch  an'  carry,  an' 
to  tow  boats,  an'  to  run  the  blockade.  An'  now  he's 
gone,  an'  I  sha'n't  never  be  able  to  swindle  the  Yan- 
kees no  more.  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  oh  dear !' 

"An'  that,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  rising,  with  a  very 
grave  face,  "  are  the  end  o'  this  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin' 
you,  an'  also  of  the  thrasher  wot  run  the  blockade 
an'  met  a  whale  wot  war  out  o'  his  latitood." 


A  EEAL  AFRICAN  SWELL 

THE  Old  Sailor  was  in  a  state  of  excitement.  He 
did  not  wait  for  the  boys  to  go  down  to  his  humble 
dwelling  and  endeavor  to  persuade  him  to  tell  them 
one  of  his  surprising  yarns.  He  ran  up  to  their 
house  instead,  and,  bursting  in  with  a  rush,  ex- 
claimed : 

"Mebbe  you  will  and  mebbe  you  won't;  'tain't 
fur  me  fur  to  go  fur  to  say.  But  ef  you  don't,  you 
is  chumpish." 

"  What  ever  do  you  mean  ?"  cried  Henry. 

"  Cap'n  Gawge  Hennery  Bagg,  wot  were  skipper 
o'  the  brig  Ellen  Mush  w'en  I  war  fust  mate  o'  her, 
an'  wot  got  wracked  on  the  east  coast  o'  Afrikee, 
are  come  to  wisit  me,  an'  ef  you  don't  come  down 
an'  hear  wot  he's  got  to  say,  you'll  be  mighty  soiTy." 

The  boys  sprang  up  and  at  once  followed  the  Old 
Sailor,  who  led  the  way  to  the  village  hotel.  Per- 
haps his  statement  that  Captain  Bagg  had  come 
there  expressly  to  visit  him  was  a  slight  exaggera- 
tion. At  any  rate,  the  captain  had  just  returned 
from  a  long  visit  at  the  summer  home  of  a  wealthy 
steamship  owner  near  the  pier. 

"  Cap'n  Bagg,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  "  here  is  them 


A    KEAL   AFRICAN    SWELL  39 

two  young  gen'lemen  wot  J  war  a-tellin'  ye  about, 
wot  has  so  much  fondness  fur  hearin'  about  my  ad- 
wentures  on  the  briny  deep." 

Captain  Bagg  shook  hands  with  the  boys,  and 
said, 

"And  I  suppose  they  would  like  to  hear  a  story 
from  me." 

"  Yes  !"  cried  both  boys. 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  "it  was  this  way  :  This 
Old  Sailor  was  my  first  mate  on  the  brig  Ellen 
Mudge — " 

"Mush,  I  allus  called  her,"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 

"And,"  continued  the  captain,  "we  were  bound 
from  New  York  to  Mozambique.  We  had  a  beau- 
tiful run  of  it  down  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  I 
dare  say  I  counted  my  chickens  before  they  were 
hatched,  for  we  had  not  fairly  begun  to  make  north- 
ing before  it  piped  up  from  the  south-southeast,  and 
the  weather  speedily  grew  worse  and  worse  till  it 
was  blowing  a  real  gale.  I  hove  her  to  on  the  star- 
board tack,  and  soon  the  wind  hauled  more  to  the 
eastward  and  blew  harder  than  ever.  Two  days 
and  nights  we  were  hove  to,  and  neither  I  nor  your 
old  friend  there  had  any  rest.  On  the  afternoon  of 
the  third  day  a  hand  forward  sung  out, '  Land  ho  !' 
There  it  was,  sure  enough,  dead  under  our  lee,  and 
a  raging,  howling  sea  breaking  on  the  rocks.  To 
make  a  long  story  short,  at  five  o'clock  I  let  go  both 
bowers  in  seventeen  fathoms.  We  dragged,  and  I 
ordered  the  masts  cut  away.  We  stopped  dragging, 


40  SEA    YARNS    FOE   BOYS 

but  in  a  short  time  our  terrible  pitching  snapped  one 
cable,  and  the  other  could  not  hold  her  ;  so  in  we 
went,  crashing  broadside  on  against  the  rocks. 

"  I  will  not  pain  you  by  telling  you  how  my  men 
were  swept  overboard.  All  I  need  to  say  is  that 
your  old  friend  and  I  were  carried  off  the  poop  deck 
by  a  monster  sea,  and  that  was  all  I  knew  till  I  found 
myself  clinging  to  a  huge  rock.  I  climbed  up  and 
reached  a  sheltered  niche  in  the  side  of  the  cliff, 
where  I  remained  all  night.  In  the  morning  I 
searched  for  my  men,  but  found  not  a  trace  of  any 
one  save  our  old  friend  here,  who  had  also  reached 
a  high  part  of  the  rocks.  Our  comrades  were  all 
drowned,  and  the  brig  was  broken  in  three  pieces. 
So  we  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  cliff,  and  saw  a  fine 
level  piece  of  country  running  back  from  the  sea. 
Behind  a  clump  of  trees  about  a  mile  away  rose 
some  smoke." 

"An'  I  says  to  you,  says  I,"  exclaimed  the  Old 
Sailor,  "  there  are  a  camp  o'  savages,  an'  we'll  prob- 
ably be  fried,  broiled,  or  fricasseed  fur  breakfast." 

"You  did,"  continued  Captain  Bagg  ;  "and  I  an- 
swered that  I  was  too  hungry  to  care  much  who  ate 
so  long  as  there  was  some  eating  going  on.  Well, 
we  crept  through  the  high  grass  till  we  were  near 
enough  to  see  through  the  bushes.  And  what  do 
you  think  we  saw  ?" 

"Twenty  fierce  cannibals  in  war  paint  grouped 
around  a  fire  eating  their  horrid  meal !"  exclaimed 
Henry. 


A   REAL   AFRICAN    SWELL  41 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  captain,  smiling.  "  We 
saw  a  very  neat  garden,  full  of  rose-bushes,  sur- 
rounding a  very  pretty  white  house.  It  looked  for 
all  the  world  like  a  modest  country  residence  in 
England.  While  we  were  wondering  what  sort  of 
people  could  live  in  such  a  house  away  out  in  the 
wilds  of  east  Africa,  a  man  appeared  in  the  garden. 
He  had  on  a  straw  hat  and  a  white  flannel  suit,  and 
was  smoking  a  cigarette.  His  hat  was  pulled  down 
so  low  in  front  that  we  could  not  see  his  face,  but  his 
dress  and  his  manner  assured  us  that  he  was  an  Eng- 
lishman. So  we  stepped  out  and  advanced  boldly. 
I  said,  'Good-rnorning,  sir,'  and  he  looked  up.  And 
what  do  you  suppose  ?" 

"  What  ?"  exclaimed  the  boys. 

"  He  was  a  genuine  African,  as  black  as  the  coal 
in  your  father's  cellar.  He  took  the  cigarette  out  of 
his  mouth,  put  a  single  eye-glass  in  his  left  eye,  and, 
after  blowing  a  cloud  of  smoke,  said,  '  When  did  you 
come  up  ?'  '  Up  where  ?'  I  asked.  '  Up  the  river,  of 
course.'  'What  river?'  said  I.  'Why,  the  Nile,' 
said  he.  'You  all  come  up  the  Nile,  don't  you  ?'  ' I 
did  not  come  up  the  Nile,'  I  replied.  'I  came  from 
the  sea.'  'Really,'  he  said  ;  'but  it  doesn't  make  a 
bit  of  difference ;  here  you  are.  But  I  really  don't 
see  that  you  can  do  anything.  It's  all  been  done  to 
death,  ye  know,  my  dear  boy,  quite  too  dreadfully 
done  to  death,  really.'  'What  do  you  mean?'  I 
asked  him.  '  Can  it  be  possible  that  you  don't  know 
where  you  are?'  ' Not  exactly,'  I  said.  'I'm  some- 


42  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

where  on  the  east  coast  of  Africa,  but  I  lost  ray 
reckoning  before  I  arrived.'  '  Then,'  he  replied, '  per- 
mit me  to  enlighten  you.  You  are  in  darkest  Afri- 
ca, and  I  am  King  Ubinam,  of.  whom  you  have  doubt- 
less read  accounts  by  several  explorers.  I  really  can't 
see  why  you  have  come  to  go  over  the  old  ground 
again.  It's  all  been  written  up  by  Stanley  and  those 
other  fellows,  though  I  regret  to  say  that  their  ac- 
counts are  very  faulty.  I  am  preparing  a  volume 
for  publication  myself.  It  is  to  be  given  out  first  in 
the  form  of  letters,  which  will  be  printed  simultane- 
ously in  England  and  America,  and  afterwards  col- 
lected in  book  form.  Each  letter  will  contain  six 
illustrations,  reproduced  from  kodak  photographs 
taken  by  myself,  and  signed  with  a  fac- simile  of 
my  autograph.  I  get  one  pound  extra  per  letter 
for  the  use  of  the  autograph.  So  you  see,  my  dear 
fellow,  you  are  quite  out  of  it,  and  you'd  better 
go  back,  'pon  my  honor.'  '  But,'  I  said,  '  we  are 
no  explorers.  We  are  shipwrecked  mariners.  See- 
ing the  smoke  from  your  chimney,  we  thought 
there  might  be  a  camp  of  savages,  or  even  canni- 
bals, and  we  might  get  a  bite  to  eat.'  The  king 
laughed.  '  Savages  !  Cannibals  !'  he  said.  '  Why, 
my  dear  fellow,  you're  quite  behind  the  times.  We 
don't  have  those  things  any  more.  We've  been  ex- 
plored, and  we've  learned  the  habits  of  our  European 
discoverers.  But  come  into  the  palace  and  break- 
fast with  me,  and  you  shall  meet  my  daughters. 
They'll  give  you  a  royal  welcome  when  they  learn 


A   REAL   AFRICAN   SWELL  43 

that  you  are  not  explorers.  We  so  seldom  see  any 
one  here  except  explorers,  for  it  is  a  little  off  the 
lines  of  travel.' " 

Here  the  Old  Sailor,  slapping  his  hand  on  his 
knee,  broke  in.  "  Waal,  boys,  you  never  seed  no 
sich  gals  as  them  there  two  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  you  of. 
One  on  'em  were  about  six  feet  high,  an'  had  sich 
ears  an'  han's  an'  feet  as  I  never  seed  off  a  monkey. 
T'other  one  were  short  an'  fat  an'  yaller,  like  thin 
maple  syrup.  The  tall  one  were  called  Gladys,  an' 
the  short  one  Gwendoline.  An'  their  mammar  were 
both  short  an'  thin,  an'  were  called  Her  Majesty,  but 
her  real  name  were  Maria.  For  dinner  they  had  some 
roast  beef — roast  beef  o'  old  England  were  wot  the 
king  called  it.  I  think  it  were  roasted  in  a  tin  wash- 
boiler  full  o'  water ;  leastways  that  were  how  it  tast- 
ed. But  beggin'  your  pardon,  cap'n ;  this  'ere's 
your  yarn,  so  heave  ahead." 

"  The  king  said  to  me,"  continued  the  captain, 
"  '  We  always  have  our  beef  cooked  this  way.  You 
see,  the  truth  of  the  matter  is,  dear  boy,  that  we've 
quite  fallen  into  English  habits.'  And  then  Gwen- 
doline turned  to  our  old  friend  here  and  said,  '  Aw- 
fully jolly,  don't  you  think  ?'  And  he  said  he  hadn't 
met  with  anything  so  jolly  since  he'd  been  half 
tickled  to  death  by  a  porcupine  which  had  crawled 
into  his  bunk  on  the  coast  of  Morocco.  I  tried  to 
warn  him  not  to  talk  that  way,  and  I  heard  Gwendo- 
line whisper  to  him  :  '  You're  chaffing  us  ;  you  know 
you  are.  But  we  are  up  to  chaff,  really.  But,  for 


44  SEA    YARNS    FOB    BOYS 

goodness'  sake,  be  careful  that  you  don't  irritate 
papa.  When  he's  aroused,  he's  very  terrible,  'pon 
honah  !' " 

"  Waal,  I  tried  to  be  decent  to  him,"  broke  in  the 
Old  Sailor,  "  'cos  he  were  a  king,  an'  wore  a  white 
flannel  suit ;  but,  by  the  great  hoi'n  spoon,  the  plura- 
puddin'  were  too  bloomin'  much  fur  me.  So  I  says 
to  him  :  '  Kingsy,  if  any  explorer  told  you  that  this 
'ere  were  plum-puddin',  he  were  a-givin'  you  a  bilin' 
twister.  It's  duff,  that's  wot  it  are — duff,  an'  blame 
poor  duff,  too.'  Waal,  that  poor  king  he  looked 
down  into  his  plate,  an'  he  hove  a  sigh  like  a  gram- 
pus, an'  then  he  looks  at  me  from  under  his  eye- 
brows most  sorrowful  -  like,  and  says  he  :  '  Deary 
me  !  Deary  me  !'  But  beggin'  your  pardon,  cap'n  ; 
perceed." 

"Her  majesty,"  continued  the  captain,  "put  her 
napkin  up  to  her  eyes,  and  burst  into  tears.  '  If  you 
talk  that  way,  Ubinam,'  she  sobbed,  '  I'll  never  get 
into  society,  never ;'  and  the  gals  both  looked  very 
sad.  So  our  old  friend  said,  '  It  ain't  so  werry  bad, 
an'  I'll  take  a  little  more.'  And  then  the  king 
looked  more  melancholy  than  ever,  and  rose  from 
the  table,  saying,  '  I  hate  a  man  who  tells  the  truth 
and  then  tries  to  fib  out  of  it.'  With  that  he  lit  a 
cigarette,  and  went  out  into  the  garden.  The  two 
girls  took  us  into  the  library,  and  explained  to  us 
that  the  queen  had  to  do  her  own  cooking,  because 
they  couldn't  hire  servants  in  that  part  of  the  world, 
and  they  feared  that  she  would  worry  herself  into  a 


A    REAL   AFRICAN    SWELL  45 

decline  if  she  didn't  soon  conquer  the  mysteries  of 
those  British  dishes,  because  his  majesty  would  tol- 
erate nothing  that  was  not  English.  '  But,'  I  said, 
*  if  she  keeps  on  this  way,  the  king  will  die  of  dys- 
pepsia.' Gladys  looked  at  Gwendoline,  and  said  : 
'  Maybe  that  is  what  is  troubling  papa  now.  Oh,  if 
we  could  only  get  him  to  eat  men  again  as  he  used 
to  do  in  the  good  old  days  before  the  explorers  came 
and  made  us  so  very  English  !'  And  both  the  girls 
looked  at  us  so  very  earnestly  that  I  said,  with  much 
emphasis  :  '  Oh,  I'd  wait  awhile  if  I  were  you,  and 
give  your  mother  a  fair  chance.  She  hasn't  got  the 
hang  of  it  yet.'  '  No,'  said  Gladys ;  '  that's  it ;  and 
she  does  cook  a  man  so  beautifully  !' 

"  Well,  boys,  we  did  not  sleep  very  soundly  that 
night,  for  we  were  afraid  they  might  take  a  sudden 
notion  to  have  us  for  breakfast.  But  we  hadn't 
counted  on  the  firmness  with  which  the  English 
ideas  had  hold  of  the  king.  We  forced  some  of  the 
dreadfully  cooked  food  down  our  throats  the  next 
day,  but  it  was  hard.  The  king  watched  us  all  the 
time.  We  ate  less  and  less  as  the  days  went  by, 
and  the  king  grew  more  and  more  solemn,  and 
didn't  eat  much  himself.  Things  went  on  this  way, 
and  we  found  no  opportunity  to  escape,  till  one  day, 
about  three  weeks  after  our  wreck,  the  king  sprang 
up  from  the  dinner-table,  having  eaten  nothing,  and 
cried  out,  '  Fijont,  sitilisnot,  feeb  dna  egabbac  !' 
Her  majesty  turned  a  little  pale,  looked  frightened, 
but  sprang  up  and  cried  out,  'Ti  fo  kniht  tnod  !' 


46  SEA   YARXS    FOR   BOYS 

The  king  said,  'LliwI!'  And  the  two  girls  clapped 
their  hands  in  delight  and  screamed,  '  Ap  rof  sreehc 
eerht !'  We  were  alarmed,  for  we  did  not  know 
what  it  all  meant.  The  next  thing  we  knew  all  four 
of  them  dashed  out  of  the  dining-room  and  ran  up- 
stairs. Our  old  friend  here  said,  'Cap,  I  reckon 
we'd  better  stand  by  to  slip  cables.'  He  was  right. 
"We  went  out  into  the  garden,  and  had  hardly  done 
so  when  we  heard  yells,  and  out  came  the  whole 
family  on  the  run,  the  king  leading.  He  had  taken 
off  his  English  clothing.  He  wore  a  string  of  feath- 
ers around  his  waist,  a  ring  in  his  nose,  and  a  silk 
hat  on  the  back  of  his  head.  In  his  hand  he  carried 
a  huge  knife.  The  girls  and  the  queen,  also  in  sav- 
age dress,  followed,  the  queen  bringing  up  the  rear 
with  a  big  iron  kettle  on  her  arm.  "We  did  not 
stop." 

"  We  cut  cables,  an'  set  stuns'ls,"  said  the  Old 
Sailor.  "We  got  under  way  all  standin',  as  ye 
mought  say,  an'  steered  fur  the  open  sea.  We 
grabbed  up  our  life  presarvers  from  the  place  we'd 
hid  'em,  put  'em  on  as  we  run,  an'  jumped  into  the 
sea.  We  struck  out  fur  the  offin',  fur  we  didn't 
know  but  that  there  Anglified  old  cannibal  might 
sprout  a  canoe  as  quick  as  he  had  a  knife.  But  it 
seems  he  didn't  have  one.  We  swum  out,  an'  out, 
an'  out,  till  we  got  tired,  an'  then  we  floated.  You 
know  we  didn't  get  drownded — 'cos  w'y  ?  we're 
here.  W'ich  the  same  it  are,  'cos  we  wos  picked  up 
the  next  mornin'  by  a  steam-yacht  wot  wos  makin'  a 


A    REAL    AFRICAN    SWELL  47 

v'yage  round  the  woi'ld,  an'  we  worked  our  way 
home  in  her.  But  beggin'  your  pardon,  cap'n,  this 
here  are  your  yarn." 

"Well,"  said  the  captain,  "anyhow  you've  fin- 
ished it." 


DINING  WITH  A  MEKMAN 

THE  ocean  was  shrouded  behind  an  impenetrable 
curtain  of  gray,  for  it  was  a  morning  of  dense, 
chilling  fog.  Nevertheless  the  Old  Sailor  sat  on 
the  end  of  the  pier  and  gazed  seaward.  The  boys, 
who  were  wandering  about  disconsolately  in  the 
vain  hope  of  finding  something  to  amuse  them, 
were  surprised  and  delighted  when  they  found  him 
there. 

"  This  is  just  the  kind  of  a  day  for  a  yarn,"  said 
Henry. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  George,  "  and  perhaps  it  will  be 
all  about  a  fog." 

So  they  sat  down  beside  the  Old  Sailor.  He  did 
not  seem  to  see  them.  He  continued  to  gaze  steadily 
into  the  fog,  and  to  mutter  indistinctly.  The  boys 
gazed  into  the  fog,  too.  They  could  see  dull  brown 
lines  forming  and  advancing  and  spreading  until 
they  rolled  out  of  the  fog  as  slow,  shiny  breakers, 
toppling  over  and  bursting  into  dingy,  leaden  spray 
right  under  the  pier.  The  very  sound  of  the  surf 
seemed  choked.  They  could  hear  every  minute  the 
long,  hoarse  blast  of  a  steamer's  whistle,  warning 
other  craft  that  she  was  approaching.  Between  the 


DINING   WITH    A    MERMAN  49 

blasts  of  the  steamer's  whistle  they  could  hear  the 
tooting  of  a  strident  fog-horn  aboard  some  sailing- 
vessel,  and  occasionally  the  ringing  of  the  fog  -  bell 
on  the  light-ship  would  come  faintly  across  the  wa- 
ters. Suddenly,  without  turning  his  head,  the  Old 
Sailor  said, 

"  An'  how  many  toots  did  that  'ere  fog  -  horn 
give  ?" 

"  Two,"  replied  Henry. 
"  An'  what  do  that  mean  ?" 
"  That  the  vessel  is  on  the  port  tack." 
"  Werry  good,  too.     But  how  kin  she  tack  w'en 
there  ain't  wind  enough  to  blow  out  a  match  ?" 
And  the  Old  Sailor  leaned  back  and  laughed  in  his 
customary  silent  manner.  Then,  without  any  further 
prelude,  he  broke  out  thus  :   "  I'm  a  bloomin'  sojer 
ef  this  ain't  the  werry  identical  kind  o'  a  fog  wot  it 
happened  in." 

"  What  ?"  cried  both  boys. 

"  That  'ere's  edzackly  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell 
ye  ef  ye'll  jess  hold  your  breath  till  I  kin  git 
started.  I  were  down  on  my  luck  putty  consid'able 
at  the  time  wot  I'm  a-speakin'  of,  an'  I  didn't  seem 
to  be  able  to  git  no  sort  o'  a  berth  at  all.  So  I  sez 
to  myself,  sez  I,  '  Preehaps  ef  I  try  another  port, 
I'll  do  better,'  jess  like  that,  me  bein'  aground  in 
London.  So  I  ups  an'  ships  afore  the  mast  on  the 
bark  Sago  Pudding  bound  for  Rio  with  a  cargo  o' 
quill  tooth-picks,  molasses,  ready  -  made  pants,  and 
other  knick-knacks.  The  second  mate  he  sees  I 

4 


50  SEA   YARNS   FOB   BOYS 

were  a  old  hand,  an'  so  he  puts  me  in  the  foretop, 
w'ich  the  same  I  were  werry  well  satisfied  with. 
Waal,  we  didn't  have  nothin'  excitin',  barrin'  a 
collision  with  a  fishin'-smack  off  Goodwin  Sands,  a 
gale  o'  wind  off  the  Azores,  a  water-spout  in  lati- 
tood  26°  north  an'  longitood  68°  west,  an'  a  small 
matter  o'  six  days'  doldrums;  howsumever,  the  dol- 
drums isn't  excitin'." 

"  What  are  doldrums  ?"  asked  George. 

"  Doldrums,  my  son,  is  nothin'.  That  are,  it's 
w'en  there  ain't  no  wind  at  all,  an'  you  jess  bug- 
galug  aroun',  an'  putty  nigh  tie  your  t'-gallant  masts 
into  knots  a-rollin'.  Waal,  as  I  were  a-sayin'  w'en 
you  interrepted  me,  we  didn't  have  nothin'  else 
excitin'  till  we  runs  into  the  blam'dest,  thickest, 
oiliest  fog  wot  I  ever  seed.  This  'ere  one  makes 
me  think  on't,  but  it  ain't  so  heavy.  Why,  the  fog 
was  so  thick  the  cap'n  couldn'  tell  time  by  his 
watch  on  deck,  'cos  w'y  :  w'en  he  were  lookin'  at 
the  minnit  hand,  he  couldn't  see  as  fur  as  the  hour 
hand.  Ef  you  stuck  your  hand  out  in  front  o'  you, 
it  'd  git  lost  in  the  fog  jess  ez  ef  it  'd  b'en  bit  off. 
Waal,  the  cap'n  he  got  a  notion  into  his  head  that 
it  were  a-comin'  on  to  blow,  an'  he  sends  hands 
aloft  to  furl  the  t'-gallant-s'ls.  I  went  up  on  the 
fore-t'-gallant  yard  an'  sot  to  work.  Blow  me  fur 
pickles,  ef  I  didn't  get  all  mixed  up  'cos  I  couldn't 
see  nothin'  a  foot  away  from  me.  So,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  I  went  out  on  the  yard-arm,  w'en  I  thort  I 
were  a-goin'  in  towards  the  mast,  an'  fust  thing  I 


DINING   WITH    A   MERMAN  51 

knowed  I  went  off  the  bloomin'  thing  an'  ca-plunk 
into  the  sea.  Somebody  heard  me  go,  an'  hove  a 
life-buoy  over  the  side,  at  the  same  time  a-yellin' 
'  Man  overboard  !'  loud  enough  fur  to  bust  hisself, 
only  it  were  Bill  Smock,  an'  he  had  lungs  made  o' 
rawhide. 

"  Waal,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  after  a  momentary 
pause,  "they  lowered  away  a  boat,  but  they  didn't 
dare  go  werry  fur  from  the  ship  fur  fear  she'd  never 
find  the  way  back  agin.  I  kep'  a-hollerin'  an'  a- 
swimmin',  but  I  could  hear  from  the  sounds  o'  their 
voices  w'en  they  hollered  back  that  I  were  a-gittin' 
further  away  all  the  time.  This  lasted  about  an 
hour,  an'  I  were  gittin'  mighty  tired  an'  mighty 
skeered,  'cos  w'y  :  I  couldn't  hear  no  more  shoutin'. 
Then  I  felt  a  bit  of  a  breeze.  Ten  minnits  later  the 
fog  broke,  an'  I  saw  the  bark  about  three-quarters 
o'  a  mile  away.  All  her  boats  was  at  the  davies,  so 
I  knowed  they'd  gave  me  up.  Sure  'nuff,  as  soon  as 
the  breeze  fairly  filled  her  sails,  she  squared  away  on 
her  course. 

"  Boys,  it  were  not  a  agreeable  position  fur  a  hon- 
est, hard  -  workin'  sailor.  Howsumever,  I  didn't 
quite  despair,  'cos  w'y  :  about  a  hundred  yards  away 
I  sees  the  life-buoy.  I  swimmed  to  it  an'  got  it  over 
my  head  an'  down  under  my  arms.  '  Now,'  sez  I 
to  myself,  sez  I,  '  I'm  werry  comf'table  purwidin'  no 
onconsiderate  shark  comes  along  an'  bites  off  my 
legs.'  Jess  as  I  had  said  that  I  seed  a  shark's  fin 
not  more  Jn  two  hundred  yards  away.  I  decided 


that  ray  number  were  h'isted  an'  I  were  bound  fur 
Davy  Jones's  locker.  But  while  I  were  a-watchin' 
the  fin  I  were  jess  paratyzed  to  see  a  hand  come  up 
out  o'  the  water  an'  catch  hold  o't.  An'  the  hand 
were  followed  by  a  head  with  a  plug-hat  on't.  The 
head  took  a  glance  around,  an'  seem'  me,  ducked 
under  like  a  shot.  It  come  up  agin  in  a  minnit,  an' 
tuk  another  look.  Then  it  went  down,  the  hand 
followin'.  The  next  second  the  bloomin'  thing 
comes  up  right  alongside  o'  me,  an'  stares  into 
my  face.  Waal,  I  were  some  flabbergasted,  but  I 
couldn'  help  laffin'.  This  ?ere  pusson's  face  were 
so  funny.  He  looked  like  one  o'  them  pictures  o' 
Irishmen  wot  you  see  in  a  comic  paper,  on'y  his 
eyes  an'  the  beard  aroun'  his  neck  was  green. 

" '  Wot  are  you  a-laffin'  at  ?"  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he. 

" '  Beggin'  your  pardin','  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  '  but 
you  are  the  livin'  image  o'  Teddy  Mulcahey,  wot 
wore  fust  mate  o'  the  Smokin'1  Sarah,  an'  were 
drowned.  Are  you  him  ?' 

"  'No,  I  are  not  him,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he ;  'my 
name  are  Benjamin  B.  Seagrave,  an'  I  never  were  a 
sailor,  'cos  I  are  by  birth  an'  perfession  a  merman.' 

" '  Oh,'  sez  I,  '  then  you  'ain't  got  no  legs  ?' 

"'Legs!  No,  certingly  not.  Wot  good  is  legs  out 
here  in  one  thousand  seven  hundred  fathom  o'  water?' 

"  '  Not  havin'  no  legs,'  sez  I,  '  you  ain't  afraid  o' 
havin'  em  bit  off.' 

"  '  Bit  off  !  What  in  water  are  you  a  -  talkin' 
about  ?  Oh,  I  see.  You're  a-lopkin'  at  my  shark.' 


DINING   WITH    A   MERMAN  53 

" '  Oh,  are  that  your  shark  !' 

" '  Yes  ;  he's  all  right.     He  wouldn't  bite  you.' 

"'I  wouldn't  like  to  give  him  a  chance.' 

" '  Here,  Fido  !  here,  Fido  !  here,  Fido  !'  he  calls, 
and  the  shark  comes  a-swimmin'  up  a-waggin'  his 
tail.  'You  go  right  home,  sir,'  sez  Mr.  Seagrave, 
'an'  mind,  this  'ere  gen'leman  are  a  friend  o'  mine, 
an'  he's  not  to  be  bit.' 

"  The  shark  he  waggles  his  tail  some  more,  stands 
on  his  head,  an'  goes  straight  down. 

" '  Were  do  you  live  ?'  sez  I  to  Mr.  Seagrave. 

" '  Oh,  jess  below  here,'  he  sez,  pointin'  dojvn. 

"  <  How  fur  ?'  sez  I. 

'"A  little  over  three-quarters  o'  a  mile,'  sez  he. 
'  Come  down  an'  I'll  interdooce  ye  to  my  wife,' 

" '  No,  thankee,'  sez  I. 

"'Oh,  o'  course,'  sez  he,  'I  forgot.  You'd  git 
drownded.  Say,  wot  are  you  doin'  here  anyhow? 
Workin'  fur  the  coast  survey  ?' 

" '  Nah  ;  fell  overboard  from  the  bark  Sago  Pud- 
din?: 

"Waal,  Mr.  Seagrave  he  jess  leaned  back  an' 
shuck  his  sides  a-laffin'.  Wen  he  got  his  wind  agin, 
he  sez  to  me,  sez  he : 

" '  I've  heerd  tell  o'  razor*clam  puddin',  an'  octo- 
pus-puddin'  with  squid  sass,  but  wot  'n  gracious  are 
sago-puddin'  ?' 

"I  allowed  that  I  didn't  rightly  know  myself, 
never  havin'  eat  the  same.  An'  then  I  sez  to  him, 
sez  I: 


54  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

" '  I  wouldn't  mind  havin'  some  now,  'cos  w'y : 
I'm  feelin'  a  leetle  chilly  an'  putty  consid'able  hun- 
gry-' 

" '  Waal,  you  jess  come  along  o'  me,'  sez  he,  *  an' 
I'll  fix  you  up.' 

"  He  were  a-startin'  to  dive  down  w'en  I  ketched 
him  by  the  lapel  o'  his  coat  an'  hinted  to  him  that  I 
couldn't  dive  down  quite  so  deep. 

" '  Oh,  I  keep  a-forgettin','  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he, 
'that  you're  one  o'  them  there  poor  shore  pussons. 
Howsumever,  we  kin  soon  manage.  I  know  a  nice 
little  CQral  reef  not  fur  from  here.  It's  out  o'  water 
at  low  tide,  an'  we  can  lie  on  the  reef  an'  eat.  I'll 
jess  call  my  carridge.' 

"So  sayin'  he  stuck  his  head  down  under  the 
water  an'  made  a  noise  wot  sounded  edzackly  like 
the  ringin'  o'  a  bell.  I  dunno  how  he  did  it,  but  he 
did.  In  about  two  minutes  a  rousin'  big  sword-fish, 
hitched  to  a  big  sea-shell,  came  up,  an'  Mr.  Seagrave 
invited  me  to  git  in,  w'ich  the  same  I  done. 

" '  Who's  goin'  to  drive  ?'  sez  I. 

" '  We  don't  drive.  We  jess  talks  fishy  to  him, 
an'  he  knows  w'ere  to  go.' 

"  So  he  leans  over  the  dash  -  board  an'  sez  some- 
thin'  to  the  sword-fish,  an'  away  we  went  a-whizzin'. 
Wall,  we  got  to  the  coral  reef  all  right  'nuff,  an'  the 
carridge  were  sent  below  agin,  he  havin'  said  some- 
thin'  to  the  fish.  In  three  or  four  minutes  I  see  a 
b'ilin'  in  the  water,  an'  up  comes  a  merwoman,  fol- 
lered  by  a  lot  o'  little  merlads  an'  mermaids. 


DINING   WITH   A    MERMAN  55 

" '  These  here,'  sez  Mr.  Seagrave,  '  is  ray  wife  an' 
fam'ly.' 

"  I  bowed  to  'em,  and  they  all  flopped  around  an' 
laid  out  on  the  coral.  Mrs.  Seagrave  were  not  wot 
you  might  call  putty,  seein'  she  were  a  werry  sickly 
green  with  dark  blue  freckles,  but  the  kids  was  kind 
o'  spry  an'  cunnin'. 

" '  Are  the  dinner  comin'  ?'  sez  Mr.  Seagrave. 

"  Yes ;  Sally  are  a-bringing  of  it,'  sez  his  wife. 

" '  Sally's  our  hired  gal,'  sez  he  to  me ;  '  she  are  a 
Sally  Growler,  but  we  calls  her  jess  plain  Sally.' 

"  Wen  she  come  up  I  seed  that  she  were  werry 
plain  Sally.  Howsumever,  the  dinner  were  plainer 
still,  bein'  as  how  it  were  all  raw.  But  I  filled  my- 
self up  with  three  oysters." 

"  With  three  ?"  exclaimed  Henry. 

"  Yep,"  responded  the  Old  Sailor.  "  Wy,  they 
wos  as  big  as  your  two  fists,  an'  a  dozen  on  'em 
would  'a'  fed  a  small  fam'ly.  Waal,  the  more  I 
looked  at  this  'ere  fam'ly  o'  merpeople  the  more  I 
thought  I  could  make  a  everlastin'  fortune  ef  I 
could  get  'em  to  go  ashore  with  me  an'  exhibit  in  a 
dime  museum.  So  I  sez  to  Mr.  Seagrave,  says  1 1 

" '  Ever  b'en  ashore  ?' 

« <  W'y,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  I'm  ashore  now, 
ain't  I?' 

" '  Oh,  I  mean  on  land — in  America,  fur  instance.' 

"  'Yes,'  he  sez,  'once  w'en  I  were  young.' 

"  *  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  back  ?'  sez  I. 

" '  No,'  sez  he. 


56  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

"  '  But  s'posin'  I  could  make  it  wuth  your  while.' 

"  '  I  don't  see  how  you  could,'  sez  he,  thortf ullike ; 
'  w'y,  fur  one  thing  there's  no  water  ashore,  an'  I 
'ain't  got  nothin'  to  walk  with.' 

"  'But  s'posin'  I  was  to  agree  to  furnish  you  with 
a  big  tank  full  o'  salt  water,  an'  with  glass  sides  so 
you  could  see  out.' 

"  Mrs.  Seagrave  an'  the  children  sot  up  an'  looked 
werry  sharp  at  me,  an'  Mr.  Seagrave  sez,  werry  slow, 

"  '  Wot  do  you  mean  ?' 

"'Waal,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  not  knowin'  no  bet- 
ter, '  ef  I  could  have  you  an'  your  fam'ly  on  exhibi- 
tion fur  about  a  year,  I  could  make  a  hundred  thou- 
san'  dollyers,  an'  I'd  give  you  half,  an'  then  you — ' 

"But  at  that  moment  Mrs.  Seagrave  an'  the  kids 
let  out  a  awful  screech  an'  dived  into  the  sea  with  a 
loud  splash.  Mr.  Seagrave,  whose  green  face  had 
turned  to  a  sickly  yaller,  sez  to  me : 

"  '  I  might  'a'  knowed  better  'n  to  talk  to  a  bloom- 
in'  landlubber.  All  you  people  want  o'  us  is  to  catch 
one  o'  us  an'  show  him  in  a  tank.  But  you  'ain't 
never  done  it  yet,  an'  you  never  will.  You  make 
sham  mermaids  an'  show  'em,  but  you  'ain't  never 
had  a  real  one.  All  my  life  I've  been  watchin'  out 
ag'in  schemes  o'  you  landlubbers  to  catch  me,  an'  I 
b'en  eddicatin'  up  my  children  to  look  out  for  'em, 
too.  An'  now,  by  the  great  whale's  fin,  I  find  you 
a-floatin'  out  here  in  the  middle  o'  the  sea  in  danger 

O 

o'  starvin',  I  treat  you  decent,  an'  give  you  some- 
thin'  to  eat,  an'  right  off  you  want  to  get  me  into  a 


DINING    WITH    A    MERMAN  57 

tank  an'  make  a  show  o'  me.  That  ever  I  should 
have  lived  to  see  the  day!  Annyhow,  you're  the  first 
landlubber  that  ever  had  a  face-to-face  talk  with  one 
o'  us,  an'  you're  a-goin'  to  be  the  last.' 

"  With  that  he  grabbed  me  round  the  neck  an' 
dove  into  the  sea.  I  made  up  my  mind  I  were  a- 
goner.  Down,  down  we  went,  till  arter  a  while  he 
sez  in  my  ear — an'  I  could  hear  him  under  water  too 
— '  Now  drown,  you  landlubber !'  With  that  he  lets 
me  go,  an'  he  disappears.  I  couldn't  hold  my  breath 
no  longer,  so  I  opened  my  mouth,  swallowed  water, 
an'  fainted.  W'en  I  come  to  I  were  floatin'  around 
in  the  sea.  'Cos  w'y:  I  still  had  the  life-buoy  on, 
an'  it  'd  brung  me  up  to  the  top.  But  I  were  crazy 
as  a  loon  for  two  weeks  arter  I  were  picked  up  by 
the  steamer  Consolation,  bound  from  Cape  Town  to 
Barnegat,  New  Jersey,  with  a  cargo  o'  Dutch  cheese, 
an'  I  couldn't  do  nothin'  'cept  lie  in  a  bunk  an'  hol- 
ler one  thing." 

"  What  ?"  cried  the  boys. 

"He  called  me  a  landlubber!" 

Then  the  fog  began  to  lift,  and  the  boys  went 
home  to  dinner. 


IT  was  a  cold  and  cheerless  morning.  The  wind 
piped  icily  out  of  the  northwest,  sending  clouds  of 
dust  swirling  off  the  well-beaten  road  that  ran  near 
the  beach.  The  sky  was  nearly  overcast  with  big 
leaden-colored  tufted  clouds  with  white  edges,  be- 
tween which  here  and  there  the  blue  sky  showed  in 
gloomy  rifts.  The  sea  was  of  a  dull,  leaden  tint, 
and  under  the  lee  of  the  shore  it  was  smooth.  Far 
out,  however,  sharp-cornered  waves  could  be  seen 
against  the  distant  horizon,  and  the  two  or  three 
schooners  in  sight  were  boiling  along  in  great  smoth- 
ers of  foam  under  double-reefed  mainsails,  single- 
reefed  foresails,  and  small  jibs.  Henry  and  his  little 
brother  were  looking  with  interest  at  the  sea,  when 
they  saw  the  Old  Sailor  approaching. 

"Mornin',"  he  said.     "Fine  blowin'  weather." 

"  Yes,"  said  Henry ;  "  it  does  blow,  and  it's  cold, 
too." 

"  It  generally  are  cold  in  winter,"  said  the  Old  Sail- 
or, laughing  one  of  his  silent  laughs.  "  Mebbe  you've 
noticed  that." 

Plenry  laughed,  and  admitted  that  he  had. 

"But   s'posin','' said  the   Old   Sailor,  "I  wos   to 


HIRAM  DORKY'S  BERG  59 

go  fur  to  ask  you  w'y  it  war  cold,  wot  'd  you 
say  ?" 

"It's  cold  because  it's  winter,"  said  Henry. 

"  An'  w'y  is  't  winter  ?" 

"  Because  the  sun  has  gone  south,  and  it's  summer 
below  the  equator." 

"  Werry  good,  too,"  commented  the  Old  Sailor ; 
"  you'll  be  a  man  some  day,  sure.  S'posin'  now  I 
wos  to  go  fur  to  ask  you  w'ich  way  were  the  wind, 
wot  'd  you  say  ?" 

"  I'd  say  about  northwest." 

"  Not  so  werry  bad,  'cos  it's  nor'west  an'  by  west." 
The  Old  Sailor  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and  then  he 
continued  :  "  S'posin'  I  wos  to  go  fur  to  say  to  you 
has  your  mother  any  hot  coffee,  wot  'd  you  say  ?" 

"  I'd  say  yes." 

"  An'  s'posin'  I  wos  to  say  would  she  give  some  to 
an  Old  Sailor  purwidin'  as  how  he'd  tell  her  two  boys 
a  yarn  ?" 

"  Of  course  she  would.     Come  right  along." 

And  they  led  the  Old  Sailor  to  their  home,  where 
he  was  soon  seated  in  a  corner  by  a  roaring  fire, 
drinking  the  hot  coffee.  He  looked  thoughtfully  at 
the  blaze  in  front  of  him,  shook  his  head,  set  down 
the  empty  cup,  and  said  : 

"  It  were  in  the  winter  o'  1849  that  I  were  shut  up 
in  a  hospitual  with  some  kind  o'  a  disconcertion  o'  my 
pussonal  health,  o'  w'ich  the  name  I  are  forgetful. 
Howsumever,  w'en  I  got  out  I  were  so  tired  o'  bein' 
shut  up  that  I'd  'a'  shipped  fur  Bendigo  in  a  flour- 


60  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

sieve.  Wot  I  did  ship  in  were  the  bark  Molly  Prism, 
bound  from  New  York  fur  Iceland  fur  a  cargo  o' 
ice." 

"  Why,  I  never  heard  of  a  ship's  going  to  Iceland 
for  ice,"  exclaimed  Henry. 

"  Waal,  you  hear  o'  't  now,"  said  the  Old  Sailor, 
gravely.  "  The  ice-crop  here  were  a  f  ailer,  an'  w'ere 
should  you  go  for  ice  'ceptin'  to  the  land  o'  't?  But 
that  'ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  the  yarn  wot  I'm 
a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you.  The  Molly  Prism  were  a 
reg'lar  old  trap,  she  were.  The  only  good  p'int  she 
had  were  that  she  didn't  have  rats.  'Cos  why  ? — 
no  rat  'd  be  such  a  fool  as  to  go  to  sea  in  her.  How 
she  ever  got  so  fur  away  from  the  Romer  Beacon  as 
latitude  70°  are  more  'n  I  kin  rightly  explain,  'ceptin' 
that  we  had  bath-tub  weather  all  the  time.  We 
passed  out  by  Sandy  Hook  Light-ship  with  a  fair 
an'  gentle  sou'west  breeze,  an'  we  carried  that  with 
us  almost  up  to  Georges  Bank.  Then  it  veered  to 
the  west'rd,  an'  give  us  a  good  sailin'  breeze  fur 
nigh  on  to  forty-eight  hours,  so  that  the  blooinin' 
old  hooker  made  nine  knots  an  hour,  w'ich  fur  her 
were  lightnin'  speed. 

"  Waal,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  silent  reflection,  "this  here  fine  weather 
couldn't  last  forever,  'cos  fine  weather  never  do. 
So  one  day  the  cap'n  comes  on  deck  an'  sees  a  aw- 
ful lot  o'  copper-colored  clouds  in  the  sou'east,  an' 
says  he  to  the  mate,  says  he, '  How's  yer  byrometer?' 
An'  the  mate  says  to  him,  says  he,  '  It's  werry  wob- 


HIRAM  DOKKY'S  BERG  61 

bly,  sir,'  says  he,  just  like  that.  'Then,'  says  the 
cap'n  to  him,  says  he,  '  We're  a-goin'  fur  to  have  a 
gale  o'  wind,  an'  nawthin'  else,  right  out  o'  the  sou'- 
east ;  so  stand  by  an'  get  the  cloth  off  her.'  So 
we  wos  all  turned  to  a-gettin'  in  sail,  an'  at  the  same 
time  it  fell  a  dead  calm,  an'  the  sea  looked  like  mo- 
lasses turned  green,  'cos  it  were  so  slick  an'  smooth. 
The  swell  come  in  from  the  sou'east  soon  after,  an' 
fur  eight  hours  we  wallered  an'  rolled,  till  I  actially 
thort  as  how  the  masts  'd  snap  off  close  to  the  deck. 
W'y,  some  o'  the  youngsters  wot  hadn'  been  to  sea 
more  'n  ten  or  twelve  year  wos  sea-sick.  Then  the 
wind  come  in,  an',  Lord  bless  you,  how  it  did  blow ! 
In  about  two  hours  there  were  a  awful  sea  runnin', 
an'  it  didn'  get  no  better.  Contrairiwise,  it  growed 
wusser  an'  wusser,  till  I  thort  that  there  old  Molly 
Prism  were  a-goin'  to  roll  over  an'  over  an'  over  like 
a  ball. 

"  Waal,  I  knowed  the  Molly  Prism  wouldn't  stand 
it  werry  long.  She  were  a-creakin'  an'  a-groanin' 
like  a  old  man  wi'  the  lumbager.  After  about  six 
hours  o'  the  gale  there  were  a  big  crash,  an'  she  bruk 
in  two  right  in  the  middle.  We  all  cried  out  in  our 
fright,  but  cryin'  out  didn'  do  no  good.  The  next 
minute  the  two  halves  o'  the  bark  went  all  to  pieces, 
an'  we  wos  scattered  around  on  the  howlin'  sea.  I 
had  the  good-luck  to  be  throwed  by  a  wave  ag'in'  the 
mainmast.  There  were  lots  o'  riggin'  hangin'  to  't, 
so  I  clumb  up  an'  made  myself  fast.  I  never  seen 
nawthin'  more  o'  the  rest  o'  that  ship's  company, 


62  SEA   YAI1NS   FOR   BOYS 

though  I  heern  tell  that  some  on  'em  wos  picked  up 
by  a  whaler  an'  carried  to  Upernavik.  But  that 
weren't  my  luck.  I  jess  drifted  an'  drifted  an'  drift- 
ed fur  I  dunno  how  long.  I  were  pretty  nigh  froze 
to  death,  an'  were  so  hungry  I  chewed  the  tarred 
rope  on  the  masts.  After  a  while  I  got  kind  o'  faint, 
an'  didn'  seem  to  know  nawthin'  much,  till  I  were 
sort  o'  waked  up  by  the  mast  poundin'  ag'in'  some- 
thin'.  An'  wot  d'  ye  s'pose  the  mast  were  bumpin' 
ag'in'  ?" 

"  What  ?" 

"A  iceberg  about  two  hundred  feet  high."  The 
Old  Sailor  paused  for  a  moment  and  shook  his  head. 
"  I  didn'  seem  to  think  werry  much  o'  the  company 
I'd  met, 'cos  the  sides  o'  the  berg  wos  straight  up 
an'  down,  an'  the  ice  were  hard  enough  to  smash  my 
mast  all  to  splinters.  But,  as  I  were  lookin'  around 
a-wonderin'  wot  I  could  do,  all  on  a  sudden  I  spies  a 
beautiful  flight  o'  steps  cut  in  the  side  o'  the  berg." 

"  What  ?     Steps  !"  exclaimed  the  boys. 

"That's  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  of,"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 

"  Well,"  asked  Henry,  "  what  did  you  do  ?" 

"  Wot  did  I  do  ?  W'en  a  gen'leman  is  in  fifteen 
hundred  fathom  o'  ice-water,  hangin'  to  a  spar,  an' 
he  bumps  up  ag'in'  a  flight  o'  steps,  wot  does  he  do  ? 
He  goes  up  'em,  says  I,  an'  that's  wot  I  done.  It 
seemed  a  long  way  up,  too,  but  I  f  urgot  all  about 
that  w'en  I  got  to  the  top." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  the  boys. 

"  'Cos  I  seen  a  little  house  o'  snow  on  top  o'  the 


HIRAM    DORKY  S    BERG  63 

berg,  an'  a  Esquimau  dog  run  out  an'  barked  at 
me." 

The  boys  were  now  breathless  with  astonishment, 
as  the  Old  Sailor  continued  : 

"As  soon  as  the  dog  barked,  a  head  popped  up 
out  o'  the  top  o'  the  house  and  says,  '  Hallo  !  How 
d'  ye  do  ?'  Blow  me  fur  pickels  ef  I  warn't  knocked 
clean  silly  to  hear  that  there  Esquimau  talk  United 
States.  I  stood  there  without  a  word  to  say,  but  he 
had  lots.  '  Were  ye  from,  an'  w'ere  ye  boun'? '  says 
he  to  me,  says  he.  '  I'm  from  the  wreck  o'  the  Molly 
Prism,  an'  I'm  boun'  to  git  ashore  sommers,'  says  I 
to  him,  says  I,  just  like  that.  '  I  might  'a'  knowed 
you,'  says  he  to  me.  '  Come  up  an'  shake  han's,  an' 
don't  mind  the  dorg,  'cos  he  'ain't  got  no  teeth.' 
*  Wot !'  says  I,  '  are  it  you  ?'  An'  he  allowed  that  it 
were." 

"  Who,  who  ?"  cried  the  boys. 

"My  second  cousin,  Hiram  Dorky,  wot  went  to 
sea  two  years  arter  I  did." 

"And  how  did  he  come  to  be  there?" 

"  That's  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you.  Hiram 
took  me  in  an'  sets  me  down  at  the  table,  fur  he  were 
just  at  breakfast,  an'  he  thort  I  must  be  hungry, 
w'ich  were  gospel  truth.  *  Wot  '11  ye  have  ?'  says 
he;  'there's  fish,  feesh,  an'  fishes.'*  'Not  rnu*ch  wa- 
riety,'  says  I,  'about  this,  as  the  ole  woman  said  w'en 
she  were  sea-sick.'  'It's  wot  I  has  three  times  a 
day,'  says  Hiram,  "ceptin'  once  in  a  w'ile  w'en  I  gets 
a  stray  bird  aboard  o'  my  berg.'  '  Is  this  your  berg  ?' 


64  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

says  I.  'Course,'  says  lie.  'Oh,'  says  I,  'I  didn't 
know  but  you  mought  V  stole  it  out  o'  some  gen'le- 
man's  back  yard  !'  'Waal,'  says  he,  'not  edzackly; 
and  yit  putty  nigh.'  So  then  he  ups  an'  tells  me. 
Hiram  were  with  a  whaler,  and  she  got  shut  in  the 
ice  away  up  in  Baffin's  Bay.  Hiram  an'  another 
feller  went  on  a  foragin'  expedition,  an'  they  fetched 
up  in  a  Esquimau  camp  on  the  foot  o'  a  glacier. 
They  stayed  there  several  days ;  an'  Hiram's  pard 
went  out  seal-huntin'  one  day,  an'  never  come  back. 
Hiram  got  so  fond  o'  the  Esquimaux  that  he  settled 
down  in  their  camp,  an'  lived  there  two  years.  One 
night  he  wos  woke  up  by  a  loud  crash,  an'  heard 
yells.  He  ran  out,  but  it  were  darker  'n  pitch,  an'  he 
couldn't  see  nothin'.  He  hollered,  but  nobody  an- 
swered. He  waited  fur  a  while,  and  then  started  to 
go  to  his  neighbor's  house.  Then  he  found  wot  he 
took  to  be  a  new  crack  in  the  ice.  He  were  afraid 
to  move  any  more,  so  he  went  back  to  his  house  an' 
waited  for  daylight,  w'ich  came  along  about  three 
weeks  arter.  An'  then  he  diskivered  that  he  were 
floatin'  in  the  open  sea  on  a  berg.  The  crash  had 
been  w'en  the  berg  bruk  off'n  the  glacier.  An'  he'd 
been  floatin'  fur  six  weeks  w'en  he  met  me  travellin' 
the  same  way." 

"And  what  did  you  do?" 

"Now  we  come  to  the  sad  part  o'  this  here  tale," 
said  the  Old  Sailor,  shaking  his  head  and  gazing 
mournfully  into  the  fire.  "That  there  berg,  as 
nigh  as  I  kin  reckon,  had  drifted  around,  an'  had 


"'HALLO!   now  D1  YK  DO?'" 


HIRAM  DORKY'S  BERG  65 

at  last  got  into  the  sou'erly  current  wot  sets  down 
from  the  pole.  She  begin  to  drift  to  the  sou'ard, 
an'  the  weather  begin  to  get  milder.  Hiram  he 
sweat  and  puffed,  an'  got  whiter  every  day. 

" '  'Tain't  no  use,'  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  one  day; 
'  I  can't  stand  this  heat.'  You  see,  he'd  been  a-livin' 
in  a  cold  country  so  long.  Waal,  to  make  the  story 
short,  we  got  down  into  the  roarin'  forties  byme-by, 
^an'  our  berg  run  aground  on  the  Gran'  Banks  o' 
Newfoundland.  An'  one  day,  w'en  it  were  dead 
calm  an'  hotter'n  blue  blazes,  Hiram  keeled  over 
sunstruck.  Waal,  I  were  all  alone  on  the  berg,  'cep- 
tin'  fur  the  dog  ;  an'  the  next  day  the  heat  druv 
him  mad,  an'  he  jumped  into  the  sea  an'  swum  out 
o'  sight.  I  thort  I'd  go  crazy  up  there  on  that  berg 
in  the  next  week,  but  somehow  I  didn't.  One  night 
I  were  walkin'  around  on  my  lawn — made  o'  green 
ice — w'en  I  spied  the  lights  o'  a  steamer.  It  were 
a  werry  thick  night,  an'  I  saw  by  the  way  she  were 
a-headin'  that  she  were  a-goin'  to  run  bang  into  my 
berg.  So  I  run  down  the  steps  an'  begin  to  holler: 
'  Keep  off  !  Keep  off  there  !  Ef  you  smash  my 
berg  I'll  sue  you.'  W'en  they  got  close  enough  they 
heard  me,  an'  they  put  their  helm  hard  a-starboard 
an'  sheered  off.  Then  they  stopped  the  engines,  and 
the  skipper  guv  me  a  hail.  'Who  are  you  ?'  says  he. 
'I'm  a  sailor-man,'  says  I, '  an'  I'm  aground.'  '  Waal,' 
says  he,  '  hold  on  a  minute  an'  I'll  send  a  boat  fur 
you.'  'Much  obleeged,'  says  I  to  him,  says  I,  just 
like  that.  An'  so  he  sends  a  boat  fur  me,  an'  putty 


66  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

soon  I  were  aboard  the  tank-steamer  Isles  o'  Greece, 
from  Christiania  fur  Boston.  An'  wot  d'  ye  think  ?" 

"  What  ?"  breathlessly  asked  the  boys. 

"  I'd  been  a-walkin'  on  ice  so  long  I  couldn't  stand 
up  on  a  wooden  deck,  an'  I  fell  down  an'  bruk  my 
arm." 

And  they  all  gazed  gravely  into  the  fire. 


IT  was  a  clear  and  beautiful  moonlight  night  in 
March.  It  was  also  a  cold  night.  There  was  very 
little  wind  to  speak  of,  but  there  was  a  biting  crisp- 
ness  in  the  atmosphere,  so  that  any  one  who  was 
out  for  a  walk  felt  like  keeping  up  a  pretty  lively 
gait.  Henry  Hovey  and  his  little  brother  had  been 
studying  their  lessons,  for  school-days  had  come 
again,  and  they  were  not  idle  boys.  When  they 
had  finished,  a  few  minutes  after  eight  o'clock, 
Henry  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  exclaimed, 

"I  tell  you,  mother,  this  is  a  fine  night !" 

Mrs.  Hovey  looked  out,  and  agreed  with  her  son. 

"  Yes,"  added  George ;  "  and  how  dancy  the  stars 
are !" 

"  I  feel  dancy  myself  this  sort  of  weather,"  said 
Henry.  "Mother,  mayn't  we  go  out  and  run  as  far 
as  the  beach  and  back?  It  isn't  bedtime  yet." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Hovey ;  "  I  think  a  breath  of 
fresh  air  will  make  you  sleep  better." 

"  Hurrah  !"  cried  George,  snatching  up  his  cap. 

The  next  minute  the  two  boys  were  bounding 
over  the  rough  road  towards  the  sea.  It  was  only  a 
short  distance,  and,  according  to  their  custom,  they 


68  SEA    YARNS    FOE    BOYS 

made  straight  for  the  old  pier.  They  did  not  dream 
of  finding  the  Old  Sailor  there  ;  but  he  was  there. 
He  was  not  sitting  down.  He  was  standing  on  the 
end  of  the  pier,  gazing  out  to  sea.  He  heard  the 
boys'  footsteps,  and  turned  his  head. 

"Waal,  waal,  waal !"  he  exclaimed.  "I  wouldn't 
never  'a'  thort  o'  seein'  you  out  here  at  night." 

"  And  we  didn't  expect  to  see  you,"  replied  Henry. 

"  I  s'pose  ye  jess  couldn'  stay  in  no  house  w'en  it 
were  sich  a  werry  fine  night  out-o'-doors." 

"That's  it.  Mother  said  a  breath  o'  fresh  air 
would  do  us  good." 

"  Mother  said  so,  eh  ?  That  there  mother  o'  yours 
— say,  are  she  made  any  doughnuts  to-day  ?" 

"No;  but  there  are  some  left  from  yesterday." 

"  Werry  good,  too ;  werry,  werry  good.  An'  d' 
ye  s'pose  there  might  be  any  tea-leaves  in  the  pot  ?" 

"  Maybe." 

"An'  some  hot  water  in  the  kittle?" 

"  Sure  to  be." 

"  Also  werry  good.  I  were  a-thinkin'  that  p'rhaps 
you  would  sleep  a  little  extry  better  ef  you  heard 
about  wot  this  'ere  moonlight  night  reminded  me 
of." 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  we  would !"  cried  Henry. 

"  But  this  'ere  pier  are  not  no  bed  o'  down  on  sich 
a  night,  an'  ef  I  were  to  keep  you  here  a-tellin'  o'  a 
yarn  I  expect  your  mother  wouldn't  like  it.  More- 
over, also,  an'  furthermore,  you  might  git  a  sore 
throat." 


A   TORPEDO    THAT    WAS    LOST  69 

"  Then  walk  up  to  the  house  with  us." 

"  That  are  about  wot  I  were  a-proposin'  to  do." 

"And  I'm  sure  mother  will  give  you  a  doughnut 
and  a  cup  of  hot  tea." 

"  W'ich  the  same  would  be  werry  agreeable  on 
this  'ere  cool  evenin',  an'  I  think  might  werry  likely 
make  the  yarn  a  leetle  longer." 

So  the  three  friends  started  for  the  house.  On 
arriving  there  Henry  explained  the  state  of  affairs 
to  his  mother,  and  the  cup  of  tea  and  the  doughnut 
were  soon  produced. 

"  Now,"  said  Henry,  "  what  were  you  thinking 
about  when  we  found  you  ?" 

"  W'ich  the  same  I  are  about  to  relate  to  you  in  a 
plain  an'  simple  tale  o'  the  sea.  It  were  a  werry 
large  an'  old-fashioned  ship  wot  I  seed  out  there  wot 
sot  me  a-thinkin'  about  a  experience  wot  I  had  oncet 
on  to  a  man-o'-war  in  f  urrin  waters."  The  Old  Sailor 
swallowed  the  last  mouthful  of  tea,  and  then  said : 
"  Thankee,  marm.  The  principal  pussonage  in  this  'ere 
yarn  wot  I  are  a-goin'  fer  to  tell  you  were  a  torpedo." 

"  A  torpedo  ?" 

"  Yes.  Not  the  kind  wot  boys  throw  at  sea-farm' 
gen'lemen  on  the  Fourth  o'  July,  but  the  kind  that 
is  occupied  aboard  o'  war-ships." 

"  What  kind  is  that  ?" 

"  A  torpedo  are  a  kind  o'  a  invention  wot  are 
made  out  o'  copper  an'  other  metal  in  the  shape  o'  a 
cigar.  It  are  loaded  with  gun-cotton  or  dynamite 
or  some  sich  stuff  to  make  it  go  off,  an'  it  has 


70  SEA    YARNS    FOB    BOYS 

machinery  in  it  to  turn  a  propeller  wot  makes  it  go 
jess  like  a  boat.  An'  there's  a  wire  to  it  w'ich  the 
same  you  keep  the  end  of  aboard  the  ship,  an'  by 
electricity  you  steer  the  aforesaid,  an'  make  it  do 
'most  any  thin',  'ceptin'  to  talk,  w'ich  it  warn't  never 
intended  to  do  but  oncet — an'  then,  good-bye.  The 
puppose  of  a  torpedo  is  to  blow  up  a  enemy's 
wessel.  You  launch  the  torpedo  overboard,  havin' 
started  the  machinery,  an'  away  she  goes  at  a  20- 
knot  gait,  you  a-steerin'  of  her  by  the  electric  wire. 
Wen  she  hits  the  other  ship  you  explodes  her  by 
electricity,  an'  the  other  ship  goes  to  Davy  Jones's 
locker  in  sections.  Are  that  plain  to  your  mind  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  the  boys.  "Now,"  added  Henry, 
"  tell  us  about  your  torpedo." 

"  Waal,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  "  it  were  in  the 
Russo-Turkish  war.  I  were  knockin'  around  Europe 
without  no  berth  w'en  it  bruk  out,  an'  so  I  says  to 
myself,  says  I,  here's  goin'  to  be  a  shindy  with 
chances  for  prize-money,  an'  I  hurried  off  an'  'listed. 
I  were  not  a  green  hand  edzackly,  ""cause  I'd  sarved 
three  years  on  the  Minnesota  an'  one  year  on  the 
Hartford  durin'  a  diffikilty  w'ich  ariz  betwixt  the 
North'n  and  the  South'n  parts  of  the  United  States, 
in  w'ich  the  same  we  live.  Howsumever,  I  didn't 
speak  any  Roosian ;  but  they  put  me  on  the  cruiser 
Skipoffvitch,  w'ere  an  ossifer  wot  talked  English 
had  charge  o'  the  powder  diwision;  an'  findin'  I 
were  an  old  American  man-o'-war's  man,  he  took 
me  into  his  gang  an'  put  me  to  work.  Before  the 


A    TORPEDO    THAT    WAS   LOST  71 

war  got  fairly  started  I  knowed  all  the  commands 
in  Roosian;  an'  w'en  a  ossifer  swalleyed  his  front 
teeth,  choked,  coughed,  an'  said,  '  Ouftik  gouvitch- 
sky  vod,'  I  knowed  putty  well  that  he  meant,  '  Cast 
loose  and  purwide,'  w'ich  is  the  order  to»git  every- 
thin'  ready  fur  to  load  up  and  shoot. 

"The  business  o'  this  'ere  cruiser  Skipoffmtch 
were  pecul'ar  an'  aggrawatin'.  I  s'pose  you  know 
that  there  are  a  passage  o'  water  connectin*  the 
Black  Sea  with  the  Mediterranean,  an'  that  the 
Black  Sea  are  chiefly  inhabited  by  Roosians.  Least- 
ways, you  ought  to  know  it,  an'  if  you  don't,  what 
fur  do  you  study  gcoggerfy,  w'ich  the  same  I  s'pose 
you  have  at  school." 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Henry;  "and  the  strait  you  mean 
is  the  Bosporus." 

"W'ich  the  same  it  isn't,"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 
"  The  strait  wot  I'm  alludin'  to  are  the  Dardanelles, 
not  the  Bosporus.  The  Skipoffvitch  were  engaged 
in  hangin'  around,  dodgin'  in  an'  out  among  the  isl- 
ands o'  the  Greek  Archipelager  for  the  purpose  o' 
prewentin'  any  Turkish  man-o'-war  from  Constan- 
tinople from  gittin'  out  an'  away  into  the  Mediter- 
ranean. There  was  plenty  o'  Roosian  ships  in  the 
Black  Sea  to  head  'em  off  if  they  tried  to  run  up  to 
Odessa  or  sich  ports,  an'  we  wanted  to  keep  'em 
shut  up  in  the  Sea  o'  Marmora,  w'ere  they  couldn't 
do  no  harm  to  nothin'  'ceptin'  their  own  perwisions. 
Waal,  to  prewent  this  'ere  story  from  growin'  as 
long  as  our  cruise,  I'll  jess  skip  over  a  month  or  so, 


72  SEA    YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

an'  come  down  to  the  partikler  occasion  w'en  that 
torpedo  got  lost.  Fust  and  foremost  lemme  ask 
you  w'ether  you  ever  saw  a  dry-  gale  o'  wind?" 

"  You  mean  a  gale  when  it  doesn't  rain,  and  the 
sun  often  eomes  out  from  behind  the  clouds  ?"  said 
Henry.  "  Oh  yes,  I've  seen  that  kind  of  a  gale  right 
here  on  this  coast  often." 

"  "Werry  good,  too,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  gazing 
out  into  the  bright  moonlight  at  the  ships  in  the 
hai'bor,  and  laughing  heartily,  but  without  a  sound, 
"  Only  in  this  'ere  gale  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  of  the 
moon  were  more  notable  than  the  sun,  'cause  what 
this  story  are  about  happened  at  night,  It  had 
been  a-blowin'  a  howlin'  dry  gale  fur  two  days,  an' 
the  cap'n  allowed  that  it  would  be  better  fur  us  to 
go  an'  lie  up  under  the  lee  o'  a  werry  small  an*  low 
island  jess  outside  o'  the  entrance  to  the  Darda- 
nelles, w'ere  a  lookout  at  the  topmast  head  could 
see  any  wessel  wot  might  try  to  come  out,  while 
our  ship  could  be  ridin'  werry  snug  to  her  anchors. 
Bless  you,  how  it  war  blowin'  !  The  clouds  were 
sizzlin'  across  the  sky  like  great  buckets  full  o' 
spray,  an'  every  oncet  in  a  while  the  moon  would 
come  shootin'  out  from  behind  one  o'  'em  like  a 
white-hot  cannon-ball.  The  sea  were  roarin'  like 
ten  thousand  mad  bulls,  an'  the  combers  were 
breakin'  on  every  wave.  To  make  things  all  the 
more  interestin',  the  sea  war  alive  with  phosphores- 
cence, an'  every  comber  that  broke  looked  as  if  she 
wos  on  fire.  It  were  nigh  on  to  the  most  grandest 


A   TOKPEDO   THAT   WAS   LOST  73 

night  wot  I  ever  seed  at  sea.  Every  time  a  sea 
hit  our  cruiser  under  the  bow  the  spray  'd  fly  up 
around  the  catheads  like  flames,  an'  I'm  blamed  ef 
it  didn't  make  even  me  feel  creepylike  sometimes. 
'Cos  w'y  ?  It  didn't  look  real,  it  didn't,  but  more 
like  a  sort  o'  a  burnin'  ghost  o'  a  sea.  Leastways, 
that's  wot  I  says  to  myself  standin'  right  there 
on  the  starboard  side  o'  the  forec's'le-deck  of  the 
Roosian  cruiser  Skipoffmtch. 

"  Waal,  we  wos  a-gittin'  well  up  under  the  lee  o' 
the  aforesaid  island  w'en  the  lookout  let  us  know 
that  he  seed  a  sail,  w'ich  the  same  looked  like  a 
man*o'-war.  One  o'  the  ossifers  went  aloft  an'  took 
a  look,  an'  then  he  came  down  in  a  great  deal  o'  a 
hurry,  an'  after  that  there  wos  a  great  lot  o'  whis- 
perin'  among  the  ossifers  on  the  quarter-deck.  Putty 
soon  some  orders  wos  gave,  an'  I  made  out  that  the 
wessel  comin'  out  war  steerin'  such  a  course  that 
she'd  pass  close  around  the  south  end  o'  the  island, 
an'  not  more  'n  seven  hundred  yards  from  w'ere  we 
were  a-proposin'  to  anchor.  The  cap'n's  idee  were 
that  she  wouldn't  see  us  in  behind  the  island,  an' 
she'd  be  right  on  top  o'  us  afore  she  knowed  any  thin', 
an'  we'd  just  blow  her  into  flinders  with  a  torpedo. 
I  didn't  think  it  were  much  o'  a  night  fur  torpedo 
practice,  but  as  I  weren't  an  ossifer,  but  a  seaman, 
I  were  not  supposed  to  think.  There  warn't  no 
question  about  her  bein'  a  Turk,  'cos  none  o'  our 
ships  from  the  Black  Sea  could  'a'  got  through  the 
Bosporus  noway  at  all. 


74  SEA    YARNS    FOB    BOYS 

"  The  torpedo  were  got  ready,  an1  I  stood  by 
with  the  rest  o'  the  launchin'  crew.  We  waited  an' 
waited,  an'  putty  soon,  arter  we'd  waited  about  an 
hour,  the  ship  hove  in  sight  off  the  point.  She  were 
a  great  high  -  sided,  old  -  fashioned  hooker,  an'  she 
were  a  sort  o'  a  greenish-white,  like  moonlight,  or  a 
iceberg  at  night,  from  water-line  to  truck.  I  tell 
you,  boys,  that  there  wessel  gave  me  the  shivers 
the  werry  minnit  I  see  her.  An',  bless  you!  although 
it  war  blowin'  a  gale,  that  craft  had  every  stitch  o' 
canvas  set ;  yet  she  were  a-creepin'  along  like  she 
war  tired.  The  torpedo  ossifer  he  didn't  seem  to 
notice  nothin',  but  give  the  order,  an'  the  torpedo 
were  launched. 

"We  could  see  it  rushin'  thro'  the  seas  jess  as 
plain  as  if  it  were  day,  on  account  o'  the  phosphores- 
cence an'  the  moonlight,  an'  I  says  to  myself,  says 
I,  that  the  other  ship  would  see  it  too,  an'  would  let 
loose  on  it  with  her  rapid-fire  guns,  ef  she  had  any. 
But  blow  me  for  a  porpoise  ef  she  paid  any  atten- 
tion at  all  to  it.  'They're  all  asleep,'  says  our 
cap'n,  laughin',  'an'  in  a  second  they'll  all  be  in 
eternity.'  Our  torpedo  ossifer  were  fairly  dancin', 
he  were  so  excited.  The  torpedo  were  steerin' 
beautiful,  an'  war  goin'  as  straight  fur  the  ship  as  a 
bullet  at  a  target  on  shore.  The  wire  wTere  runnin' 
out  at  a  sixteen-knot  gait,  an'  the  electric  sharp  stood 
by  to  press  the  key  w'en  he  got  the  order.  In  a  few 
short  seconds  we  saw  the  torpedo  right  under  the 
strange  wessel's  side. 


'  WE    COULD    SEE    IT    RUSH1N'    THRO'    THE    SEAS    JESS    AS    PLAIN    AS 
IK    IT    WERE    DAY  '  " 


A   TOKPEDO   THAT   WAS   LOST  75 

" '  Ouaraphkth  !'  screeched  the  torpedo  ossifer. 

"  The  electric  feller  pushed  down  the  key,  an'  we 
all  held  our  breaths,  a-lookin'  at  the  stranger  an' 
waitin  fur  the  explosion. 

"  Pst !     That  there  wessel  went  out." 

"  Did  what  ?"  exclaimed  the  boys. 

"  Went  out — jess  like  gas  wot's  turned  off.  There 
warn't  no  explosion  at  all ;  not  a  sound  ;  but  the 
icebergy-lookin'  ship  warn't  there.  That's  all." 

"  But  the  torpedo  ?" 

"That  weren't  there,  either.  The  wire  fell  slack 
an'  stopped  runnin'  out,  an'  w'en  we  hauled  it  all  in 
the  end  were  jess  burnt  off,  an'  smelled  like  all  the 
brimstone  in  creation  'd  got  on  to  it.  We  had  to 
chuck  it  overboard,  or  else  the  hull  crew  'd  been 
suffercated." 

"And  what  became  of  the  white  ship?" 

''  My  young  friend,  there  is  some  questions  wot 
can't  be  answered." 

"  But  what  was  she  ?" 

"  It  ain't  fur  me  to  say  wot  she  were,"  said  the 
Old  Sailor,  very  gravely,  "but  it  's  allus  been  my 
solemn  conwiction  that  them  there  Roosians  tried 
to  torpedo  the  Flyin1  Dutchman,  w'ich  the  same 
you  can't." 


ILL-TREATING  A  GHOST 

HE  was  a  queer-looking  fellow.  His  hair  was 
fiery  red,  and  stuck  out  in  ragged  wisps  under  the 
rim  of  his  slouched  hat.  His  shaggy  red  eyebrows 
hung  bristling  over  a  pair  of  cold,  steely  gray  eyes 
that  seemed  to  swim  in  moisture.  His  nose  had  evi- 
dently been  broken,  and  that  very  badly,  for  it  was 
a  shapeless  mass.  His  beard,  like  his  hair,  was  brill- 
iant, and  it  looked  as  if  it  had  never  known  a  comb. 
His  face  was  deathly  pale,  and  his  gaze  was  fixed 
straight  ahead.  His  hands  were  clasped  loosely  be- 
hind the  tails  of  his  threadbare  brown  coat,  and  he 
had  a  large  green  handkerchief  wound  around  his 
neck. 

The  Old  Sailor  sat  watching  him  as  he  passed 
gravely  down  the  street.  Then  he  shook  his  head, 
shuddered  as  if  he  had  a  chill,  and  said,  "  S'posin'  I 
wos  to  ax  you  fur  a  glass  o'  suthin'  hot  ?" 

"  I  think  I  could  get  it,"  said  Henry. 

"  Thankee  kindly,"  said  the  Old  Sailor.  "  Ye  see, 
I've  ben  kind  o'  friz  up  by  wot  I've  seed." 

"  Do  you  mean  the  man  that  went  down  the 
street  ?" 

"  Did  you  see  him  ?" 


ILL-TREATING    A    GHOST  77 

"  Certainly  I  saw  him." 

"  It  were  him,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  musing- 
ly, as  he  sipped  his  "  suthin'  hot " — "  it  were  him 
sure.  Now  I  wonder  wot  do  he  want  here  ?" 

"  Who  is  he  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Well,  it  are  consid'able  of  a  tale,  it  are  ;  an' 
then,  w'en  it  are  all  done,  ye  don't  know  who  he  are 
no  more  nor  I  do,  w'ich  the  same  I  were  shipmates 
Avith  him  ;  leastways  he  were  my  passinger  fur  three 
weeks." 

"  Oh,  tell  me  about  it !" 

"That  are  edzackly  wot  I'm  a-preparin'  fur  to 
do.  O'  course  we'll  have  a  gale  o'  wind  inside  o' 
twenty-four  hours;  'cos  w'y,  he  allus  are  bound  to 
bring  bad  luck.  It  were  w'en  I  were  master  o'  the 
brigantine  Fly 'in1- Squirrel  that  I  got,  as  ye  might  say, 
acquainted  with  that  'ere  individooal  wot  have  jess 
passed  by.  I  can't  say  as  acquainted  are  edzackly  the 
word,  'cos  nobody  can't  never  get  to  know  no  sich 
persons  as  them.  'Cos  why,  he  are  not  a  livin'  bein'." 

"  A  ghost  ?"  exclaimed  both  boys. 

"Jess  as  sure  as  a  flyin'-fish  are  not  a  monkey," 
said  the  Old  Sailor,  gravely.  "  Jess  listen  to  this  'ere 
yarn  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  ye,  an'  see  ef  any 
livin'  bein'  could  'a'  behaved  the  way  that  'ere  critter 
did  aboard  my  brigantine.  The  Flyirf  -  Squirrel 
were  bound  from  St.  John  to  Greenock,  with  a  cargo 
o'  carpet-tacks  an'  bottled  beer.  We  got  under  way 
with  as  fine  a  whole-sail  breeze  over  the  port  quarter 
as  I  ever  seed,  an'  I  laid  a  good  course  fur  our  desti- 


78  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

nation.  We  bowled  along  at  a  '1  even-knot  gait  fur 
about  twenty  hours  out  o'  the  fust  day,  an'  then  she 
fell  calm.  It  were  a  mean,  measly  calm,  with  a 
cross-grained,  hump-backed  swell  that  rolled  us  scup- 
pers under  an'  made  the  masts  snap  like  whips.  An' 
hot !  My  eye !  Wy,  the  werry  water  wot  run  in 
through  the  scuppers  'd  go  up  in  steam  off  the  decks. 
Well,  at  noon  I  got  the  sun,  an'  found  we'd  made 
two  hundred  and  fourteen  miles,  so  I  wasn't  so  werry 
mad  about  the  calm,  purwidin'  it  weren't  goin'  to 
last  long.  Sure  'nuff,  about  four  bells  in  the  after- 
noon watch — wot  shore  folks  calls  two  o'clock  fur 
short — I  seed  a  blue-black  cloud  a-risin'  in  the  sou'- 
west,  an'  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  '  We're  a-goin'  fur 
to  have  all  the  wind  we  wants.'  So  I  had  all  the 
fore-an'-aft  canvas  taken  in,  an'  put  the  brigantine 
under  her  fore-tops'l  an'  a  storm-jib.  I  hadn't  no 
more'n  got  this  done  than  down  it  come  all  a- whoop- 
in',  rain  fust  an'  wind  —  gallons  of  't  —  behind.  I 
jumped  below  into  my  cabin  to  get  my  oilers,  an'  in 
the  far  corner  I  seed  a  man  sittin'.  I  thought  it  were 
the  steward,  an'  I  shouts  at  him,  '  Git  forrard  out  o' 
that,  ye  lubber,  an'  don't  be  a-luxooriatin'  in  here !' 
With  that  I  bounces  on  deck  agin,  'cos  'twarn't  no 
kind  o'  time  fur  the  skipper  to  be  buggaluggin' 
aroun'  down  below. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  goin'  fur  to  detain  ye  with  no  ac- 
count o'  that  squall,  'cos  one  squall  at  sea  are  werry 
much  like  another,  'ceptin'  that  the  one  you're  in  are 
allus  wuss  than  them  wot  ye  remembers.  Howsum- 


ILL-TREATING   A    GHOST  79 

ever,  that  ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  this  'ere  yarn 
wot  I'm  a-tellin'  you.  As  soon  as  it  were  over,  I 
told  the  mate  to  put  cloth  on  her,  an'  then  I  went 
below  to  git  a  dry  pair  o'  boots  an'  to  fill  my  pipe. 
As  soon  as  I  went  into  the  cabin  I  seed  that  feller 
still  a  settin'  there.  I  walked  right  up  to  him,  an' 
then  I  seed  it  weren't  the  steward.  It  were  that 
critter  wot  preambleated  down  this  'ere  identical 
street  not  more'n  ten  minutes  ago." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused  to  note  the  effect  of  this 
statement  on  his  listeners,  and  finding  it  satisfac- 
tory, continued  : 

" '  Who  'n  Jerusalem  are  you  ?'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I. 

"'Wot's  that  to  you?'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he. 

" '  A  good  deal,'  sez  I,  kinder  flabbergasted  by  his 
answer,  '  seein'  as  how  I  are  the  skipper  o'  this  'ere 
craft.' 

" '  Oh,'  sez  he,  '  you're  the  skipper,  eh  ?  Well,  I 
are  a-goin'  to  Greenock  with  you.' 

" '  But,'  sez  I,  stammerin'  in  my  supprise, '  we  don't 
take  no  passingers  aboard  this  'ere  brig.' 

"'You're  a-takin'  me,'  sez  he,  grinnin';  'an'  as 
you  wos  two  hundred  and  fourteen  miles  out  at 
noon,  I  don't  see  how  you  kin  put  me  ashore.' 

" '  H-h-how  'n  bloomin'  fun  'd  ye  git  here  ?'  I 
axed  him. 

" '  Oh,  never  mind,'  sez  he  ;  '  here  I  are,  an'  I 
got  money  to  pay  fur  my  passidge.  How  much  ?' 

"  Well,  I  were  so  kerflummuxed  that  I  jess  up  an' 
sez  that  I'd  take  him  fur  fifty  dollars. 


80  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

" ' How '11  ye  have  't?*  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he  —  'in 
big  bills,  little  bills,  er  silwer  ?' 

" '  I'll  take  't  in  gold,  ef  it's  all  the  same  to  you,' 
sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  jess  like  that,  bein'  a  little  mad 
now. 

"Well,  blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  he  didn't  jess  reach 
out  an  empty  hand  an'  get  two  twenty-dollar  gold 
pieces  an'  a  ten  right  out  o'  the  air  ! 

" '  There's  yer  money,'  sez  he  to  me,  a-smilin'  like 
a  dried  mermaid  in  a  mooseum.  An'  I  were  so  silli- 
fied  that  I  couldn't  say  a  bloomin'  word. 

" '  Wot's  yer  name  ?'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  a-bracin' 
up  arter  a  while  like  a  ship  wot's  bin  knocked  down 
by  a  squall. 

" '  Well,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  they  used  to  call 
me  Horatio  B.  Smiggs,  an'  I  s'pose  it-  ain't  furbid 
fur  me  to  use  that  there  same  name  now,'  sez  he, 
jess  like  that,  me  bein'  the  cap'n  o'  the  brigantine, 
an'  him  a  red-headed  critter  a-sittin'  on  to  a  locker. 

"  So  I  dooly  entered  him  as  a  passinger  tuk  aboard 
at  St.  John;  'cos  w'y,  nobody  would  'a'  b'lieved  me 
ef  I'd  said  he  come  aboard  out  there  in  latitood  an' 
longitood.  I  were  putty  consid'able  hungry  by  this 
time,  an'  the  steward  comin'  in  with  my  dinner,  I 
axed  the  new  passinger  to  jine  me  in  a  social  bite. 
'No,  thankee,'  sez  he  to  me  ;  '  I  never  eat.' 

"An'  with  that  he  gits  up  an'  goes  on  deck.  I 
knowed  the  crew  would  be  a-puzzlin'  their  bloomin' 
brains  about  him,  an'  I  knowed  how  ready  sailors 
wos  to  be  sooperstigious.  So  I  bolted  my  dinner 


ILL-TREATING   A    GHOST  81 

an'  went  on  de.ck.  Sure  enough,  there  were  Horatio 
B.  Smiggs  a-walkin'  up  an'  down  the  port  side  o' 
.the  quarter-deck,  an'  the  han's  forrard  a-p'intin'  at 
him  an'  lookin'  werry  curious.  So  I  jess  sez  to  the 
mate,  sez  I,  '  This  'ere  gen'leraan's  Mr.  Smiggs,  a 
passinger  wot  come  aboard  jess  afore  we  sot  sail.' 

"  'No,  I  didn't,'  sez  he;  'I  come  aboard  jes  afore 
that  squall  busted  on  ye.  Cap'n,  ye  hadn't  ort  to 
go  fur  to  deceive  an  honest  man  like  your  mate.' 

"  Waal,  wot  'n  goodness  blue  could  I  say  ?  The 
mate  looked  scared,  an'  one  o'  the  men  wot  were  at 
the  w'eel  an'  heerd  the  conversationin'  looked  scare- 
der.  So  I  jess  winked  at  the  mate  an'  tapped  my 
head,  meanin'  to  indicify  that  the  passinger  were 
crazy.  Blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  he  didn't  seem  to 
see  me,  though  his  back  were  turned,  for  he  wheeled 
around,  winked  at  the  mate,  an'  sez  he  :  '  Don't  you 
b'lieve  him.  I'm  not  crazy  ;  I'm  dead.'  An'  then 
he  laughs  fit  to  bust  hisself.  I  tell  you  he  give  me 
cold  shivers  all  down  my  back.  An'  he  scared  the 
other  men  too.  It  weren't  an  hour  later  w'en  I 
heerd  one  o'  them  a-sayin'  to  another,  '  There  won't 
be  nothin'  but  bad  luck  on  this  'ere  v'yage,  'cos  we 
got  a  spook  aboard.' 

"  Well,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  a  mo- 
mentary pause,  "  at  four  bells  in  the  fust  watch — 
wot  shore  folks  calls  ten  o'clock  at  night  —  I  heerd 
a  fearful  yell  on  deck  an'  a  splash  in  the  water, 
f ollered  by  the  cry  o'  '  man  overboard.'  I  jumped 
on  deck  jess  in  time  to  see  somethin'  a-slippin'  away 


82  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

astern.  Quick  as  I  could  I  had  the  brigantine 
brought  to  an'  a  boat  lowered  away.  Meantime  I'd 
learned  that  it  were  my  bloomin'  passinger.  He'd 
bin  walkin'  on  the  rail,  an'  dancin'  jigs  there,  an' 
gin'rally  scarin'  the  crew  ;  but  all  on  a  suddint  he 
slipped  an'  went  over.  I  tuk  command  o'  the  boat 
myself,  an'  away  we  went.  O'  course  I  were  sure 
he'd  be  sunk  long  afore  we  could  git  to  him.  But 
by  the  great  horn  spoon  !  D'  ye  think  ye  kin  drown 
a  dizzy  ghost  ?  Not  much.  Putty  soon  we  hears 
him  a-singin': 

"  '  Sittin'  on  the  ocean, 

Underneath  the  stars, 

Waitin'  fur  a  boat  that's 

Rowed  by  jolly  tars.' 

"Sure  'nuff,  w'en  we  come  up  to  him  he  were 
actooally  a-sittin'  on  the  ocean,  with  his  feet 
hangin'  over — or  I  ort  to  say  under  —  an'  a-smokin' 
a  pipe  wot  smelled  like  brimstone. 

"  '  How  are  ye,  cap'n  ?'  he  sez.  *  I've  gone  an' 
got  my  feet  wet,  an'  now  I  s'pose  I'll  have  rheu- 
matiz  agin.' 

"  He  climbed  into  the  boat  an'  sot  down  along- 
side o'  me,  an'  blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  he  weren't  as 
dry  as  a  hot  biscuit,  w'ich  the  same  your  cook 
makes  better'n  any  one  on  'arth.  Thankee  kindly, 
lad  ;  since  you're  so  pressin'.  I  will  eat  one  w'en 
I've  finished  tellin'  this  'ere  yarn.  Well,  arter  that 
there  weren't  no  doin'  nothin'  with  the  crew  at  all. 


ILL-TREATING   A    GHOST  83 

I  heerd  one  on  'em  a-sayin'  to  another,  'We're 
gone  an'  got  a  Jonah  aboard,  an'  we  can't  do  no 
good  throwin'  him  overboard,  'cos  w'y,  he  won't  git 
drownded  ef  we  do.'  Then  the  other  sailor-man  he 
sez,  sez  he:  'Wot  kin  we  do?  We  kin  jess  go 
ahead  an'  work  the  ship  into  port  as  fast  as  ever 
we  kin,  an'  that's  all  as  we  kin  do,'  sez  he,  jess  like 
that.  As  fur  me,  I  jess  took  Horatio  B.  Smiggs 
down  in  the  cabin,  an'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I : 

"'See  here  ;  ef  you  jump  overboard  agin,  I'll  sail 
right  on  an'  leave  you.' 

'"Leave  an'  be  blowed  !'  sez  he;  'd'ye  think 
there  ain't  no  other  wessel  a-sailin'  this  'ere  ocean 
'ceptin'  yours?  I  reckon  I  kin  git  another  pas- 
sidge.' 

"  'Then  I  jess  wish  you'd  go  an'  do  't,'  sez  I. 

"  '  Oh,  I'm  werry  comf'table  right  'ere,'  sez  he. 

"An'  of  course  that  settled  it,  an'  I  had  to  let 
him  stay.  He  didn't  make  no  more  trouble  till 
midnight.  Then  I  were  woke  up  by  a  great  flap- 
pin'  o'  canvas,  an'  I  knowed  the  brigantine  were 
up  in  the  wind.  I  jumped  up  an'  went  on  deck. 
Fust  thing  I  see  were  the  man  at  the  wheel,  w'ich 
the  same  he  were  not  at  the  wheel,  but  were  hidin' 
behind  the  lee  side  o'  the  cabin. 

"  '  Wot's  up,  mate  ?'  sez  I. 

"  '  Ugh-h-hoo-hoo  !     Loo-oo-ook  !  sez  he,  p'intin.' 

"Waal,  I  looked,  an'  there  were  that  bloomin' 
passinger  a-walkin'  up  an'  down  the  middle  o'  the 
deck,  an'  walkin'  right  straight  through  the  masts 


84  SEA    YARNS   FOR    BOYS 

without  seerain'  to  notice  they  wos  there.  I  went 
up  to  him,  an'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I : 

" '  Look  here,  wot  sort  o'  conduck  do  you  call  this  ?' 

" '  W'y,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  it's  the  right  sort. 
I'm  a  ghost,  an'  its  arter  midnight,  so  it's  my 
business  to  walk.' 

"'Yes,'  gez  I,  'but  ye  don't  need  to  walk  right 
through  the  masts  that  way  an'  scare  the  crew.' 

" '  I  don't  care  who  gets  scared.  Ghosts  never  do,' 
sez  he. 

" '  Weriy  good,'  sez  I ;  '  then  your  walk  are  a-goin' 
fur  to  end  right  here.' 

"  With  that  I  made  a  grab  an'  got  hold  o'  his 
green  silk  neckerchief.  He  squealed  an'  pulled  an' 
tried  to  git  away,  but  'twarn't  no  good.  I  jess 
yanked  him  down  into  the  hold,  an'  tied  him  to  a 
ring-bolt  by  his  own  necktie  ;  an'  then  I  sez  to  him, 
sez  I,  '  Good-night,  sleep  tight,  an'  don't  let  the  rats 
bite.'  Then  I  went  back  to  my  cabin  an'  turned  in. 
I  hadn't  slep'  more'n  an  hour  w'en  I  were  woke  up 
agin,  an'  it  were  by  the  most  terrifyin'  o'  all  cries 
at  sea — '  Fire  !  fire  !' 

"  Waal,  I  were  on  deck  in  less  'n  a  second,  an' 
givin'  orders  to  man  the  pumps  an'  do  other  things. 
Then  I  seed  that  the  smoke  were  comin'  right  out 
o'  the  main-hatch,  an'  I  remembered  that  Smiggs 
were  down  in  the  hold.  I  s'pected  that  he  were  at 
the  bottom  o'  the  trouble ;  so  callin'  to  a  hand  to  fol- 
ler  me,  I  jumps  down.  Well,  blow  me  fur  a  salt 
mackerel  ef  that  bloomin-  Smiggs  weren't  sittin' 


ILL-TREATING    A    GHOST  85 

there  a-smokin'  a  great  big  pipe.  The  pipe  were 
red-hot,  an'  Smiggs's  eyes  were  a-blazin'  like  two  hot 
coals ;  an',  my  lands  !  but  you'd  ort  to  seen  the 
clouds  an'  clouds  o'  hot  yallerish  smoke  wot  wos  a- 
comin'  out  o'  that  'ere  pipe  !" 

" '  Say,  Mr.  H.  B.  Smiggs,'  sez  I,  *  this  'ere's  a-goin' 
too  fur.' 

"'What's  the  matter  now?'  sez  he.  'Fust  you 
shut  me  up,  an'  then  you  make  a  row  'cos  I  smokes. 
It's  tough,  that's  wot  it  is.  I'm  a  respectable,  peace- 
lovin'  ghost,  an'  all  I  axes  are  to  be  let  alone.' 

"  Waal,  some  o'  the  men  had  follered  me  down, 
an'  they  was  putty  mad.  '  Kill  him !'  yells  one. 
'Ye  can't,'  sez  another.  Til  have  a  hack  at  him 
anyhow,'  says  number  one,  an'  afore  I  knowed  wot 
were  the  matter  he  hauled  off  an'  smashed  the  ghost 
in  the  face.  Waal,  it  knocked  Horatio  B.  Smiggs 
ag'in'  the  side  o'  the  brigantine,  an'  blow  me  ef  he 
didn't  laff,  an'  go  right  on  through  into  the  water, 
leavin'  a  hole  six  feet  high.  O'  course  the  water 
come  a-rushin'  in,  an'  we  all  hurried  on  deck  to  take 
to  the  boats,  fur  we  knowed  the  brigantine  would 
go  down  in  a  werry  few  minutes.  It  were  a  nice 
how-dy-do  to  be  wrecked  four  hundred  mile  from 
shore  by  a  bloomin'  ghost  wot  were  not  inwited 
aboard,  but  there  we  was.  We'd  hardly  got  a  few 
needfuls  chucked  into  the  long-boat  an'  got  her 
lowered  away  w'en  the  Flyirf- Squirrel  gives  a  lurch 
an'  goes  down  slowly,  her  bow  settlin'  first.  An' 
then  what  d'  ye  think  happened  ?" 


86  SKA    YARNS   FOB    BOYS 

"  What  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"That  'ere  measly  spook  appeared  sittin'  on  the 
main-truck,  smokin'  his  pipe  an'  laffin'  fit  to  bust  his- 
self. 

"  *  Ye'll  ill-treat  a  ghost,  will  ye  ?'  he  yells.  <  Next 
time  ye  git  one  aboard  ye'd  better  take  good  care 
o'  him.  Whee-ee-oop  !  Here  we  go  down,  down, 
downy  !' 

"An'  with  that  him  an'  the  brigantine  sank  out 
o'  sight,  an'  I  never  seed  him  agin  till  I  seed  him  a- 
goin'  down  that  'ere  blessed  street  half  an  hour  ago." 

The  boys  gazed  down  the  street  with  the  deepest 
interest. 


THE  DIVIDED  SEA-SERPENT 

IT  was  a  fine  gusty  April  day,  with  a  cool  nor'- 
west  wind  swirling  the  dust  down  over  the  edge  of 
the  bluff  and  into  the  boiling  undertow.  The  break- 
ers were  all  wrinkled  and  twisted  around  their  crests, 
where  the  piping  breeze  caught  them,  and  tossed 
their  manes  of  spray  backward  into  the  glooming 
hollows  behind  them.  They  reared  themselves  slow- 
ly, and,  toppling  over  in  reeling  curves,  broke  in 
dull,  muffled  booms,  which  sounded  far  away  by  rea- 
son of  the  wind's  carrying  the  sound  seaward.  Three 
or  four  miles  out  a  schooner -yacht  returning  from, 
Hampton  Roads  was  beating  to  the  northward  on 
short  and  long  legs  under  housed  top-masts,  a  single 
reefed  main-sail,  foresail,  staysail,  and  jib.  At  every 
lunge  forward  into  the  oily-looking  valleys  ahead  of 
her  she  tore  the  green  water  into  white  foam,  which 
burst  in  clouds  of  smokelike  spray  over  the  weather- 
bow,  keeping  the  foot  of  the  staysail  dripping  with 
dewy  gems  of  brine. 

On  the  end  of  the  pier  sat  the  Old  Sailor,  watching 
her  with  grave  approval. 

"  A  werry  putty  boat,  an'  a  werry  putty  hand  at 
the  helium,"  he  said  to  himself,  yet  half  aloud. 


88  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

"What  did  you  say?"  inquired  a  voice  behind 
him. 

Turning  his  head,  the  Old  Sailor  saw  his  two 
young  friends,  whose  approach  he  had  not  heard. 
He  repeated  his  words. 

"  Oh,  you  mean  the  yacht,"  said  Henry. 

"How  might  you  know  she  are  a  yacht?"  asked 
the  mariner. 

"  By  her  looks,"  said  Henry. 

"  Werry  good,  too,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor,  in- 
dulging in  one  of  his  quiet  laughs.  "  That  are  about 
the  same  way  as  how  I  know  that  you  are  you." 

The  two  boys  sat  down  beside  their  queer  old 
friend  and  waited.  They  knew  that  some  kind  of 
a  yarn  was  cooking  in  his  head,  and  they  felt  sure 
that  it  was  going  to  be  about  yachting.  Perhaps  it 
would  have  been,  but  at  this  moment  the  ancient 
seafarer  caught  sight  of  something  which  changed 
the  current  of  his  thoughts.  It  was  a  curious  dark 
mass  which  rose  on  the  crest  of  a  distant  sea  and 
then  sank.  It  kept  rising  and  sinking,  just  as  if  it 
were  some  living  thing  bobbing  its  head  up  and 
down. 

"Now,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  pointing  at  it,  "  What 
might  that  be  ?" 

The  two  boys  took  a  long  and  careful  survey  of 
the  object,  and  finally  Henry  said,  "  It's  an  old  spar, 
or  something  of  that  kind,  floating." 

"  Looks  as  if  it  were  alive,"  said  his  little  brother. 

"  Werry  good,  indeed,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  laugh- 


THE    DIVIDED    SEA-SERPENT  89 

ing.  "  Both  on  you  is  right.  I've  knowed  some  skip- 
pers wot  'd  put  that  there  spar  down  in  the  log  as 
the  sea-serpent." 

"The  sea-serpent!"  exclaimed  the  boys. 

"  That's  wot  I  said,"  gravely  answered  their  friend. 

"  Why,  there  isn't  any  such  thing,  is  there  ?"  asked 
Henry. 

"  There  used  to  be  one;  now  there  is  four  on  'em," 
was  the  remarkable  answer. 

"Four?" 

"  Them's  it." 

"  Oh,  please  tell  us  about  it." 

"Waal,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  crossing  his  legs, 
"  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-goin'  to  tell  you  happened 
w'en  I  were  a  man-o'-war's  man,  a-sarvin'  o'  the  glo- 
rious flag  o'  our  country  aboard  the  United  States 
ship  Chicago,  commanded  by  Actin'  Rear- Admiral 
John  G.  Barker." 

"  Why,  then  it  must  have  been  not  long  ago,"  said 
Henry. 

"  Only  a  werry  short  time  afore  I  quit  the  sea  fur 
good,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor.  "  I  suppose  mebbe 
you  young  gen'lemen  has  heerd  o'  the  squadron  o' 
evolution,  wot  went  over  to  the  other  side  o'  the 
ocean  to  show  the  f urriners  that  we  wos  a-gettin'  a 
new  navy." 

"Yes,"  said  Henry,  "and  I  know  the  names  of 
the  ships,  too —  Chicago,  Boston,  Atlanta,  and  York- 
town.'1'' 

"  Werry  good,  too,"  said  the  Old  Sailor.    "  Waal, 


90  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

it  were  on  that  there  cruise  that  this  'ere  yarn  wot 
I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you  happened  to  this  'ere  iden- 
tical sailor,  likewise  to  all  the  other  identical  sailors 
in  the  fleet,  includin'  old  Whiskers  himself,  an'  also 
the  marines.  We'd  had  a  putty  interestin'  gale  o' 
wind  wot  'd  made  the  little  Yawktown —  or  Cork- 
town,  as  we  jackies  used  to  call  her — heave  to,  back 
end  fust.  Arter  that  there  gale  were  over  we  had 
putty  fine  weather,  an'  one  handsome  mornin'  the 
admiral  says  he  to  himself,  says  he,  'It's  bloomin' 
nigh  time  we  begins  to  smell  cigarettes.'  Cos  w'y, 
he  knowed  we  mus'  be  a-gettin'  sommers  near  the 
coast  o'  Spain,  an'  them  Spaniards  has  cigarettes  fur 
breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper,  also  atween  meals,  an' 
likewise  w'en  they  wakes  up  doorin'  the  night.  Cig- 
arettes kills  Americans,  but  them  Spaniards,  w'ile 
they  don't  edzackly  git  fat  on  'em,  they  lives  to 
werry  old  ages.  Cos  w'y,  they  gets  all  dried  up  like 
mummies  afore  they  die,  an'  every  one  knows  that 
mummies  keeps  werry  well.  Howsumever,  that  ain't 
got  nothin'  to  do  with  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tell- 
in'  ye. 

"  Wot  I  were  a-goin'  to  say  are  that  the  admiral, 
thinkin'  as  how  we  wos  a-gettin'  putty  close  to  the 
land,  sends  the  flag  leftenant  to  give  his  compli- 
ments to  the  cap'n  and  tell  him  that  he'd  better 
look  out.  So  the  cap'n  he  calls  the  orderly,  and 
sends  him  arter  the  executive  ossifer.  W'en  he 
comes  the  cap'n  says  to  him,  says  he,  '  The  admiral 
says  we'd  better  look  out.'  '  Werry  good,  sir,'  says 


THE    DIVIDED    SEA-SERPENT  91 

the  executive  ossifer.  Then  he  goes  to  his  orfice  an' 
calls  a  messenger  an'  sends  him  arter  the  navigator. 
An'  he  says  to  the  navigator,  says  he,  'The  cap'n 
says  we'd  better  look  out.'  '  Werry  good,  sir,'  says 
the  navigator.  An'  then  the  navigator  goes  down 
to  the  ward-room  an'  calls  a  messenger  an'  says  to 
him,  says  he,  '  Go  an'  tell  the  ossifer  o'  the  watch 
that  the  executive  ossifer  says  we'd  better  look  out.' 
The  messenger  goes  up  to  the  bridge,  where  the 
ossifer  o'  the  watch  are  a-walkin'  up  an'  down  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  an'  he  says  to  him,  says  he, 
'The  navigator  says,  sir,  as  how  we'd  better  look 
out.'  So  the  ossifer  o'  the  watch  he  calls  a  bosun's 
mate,  an'  says  he  to  him,  says  he, '  We'd  better  look 
out.'  '  Aye,  aye,  sir,'  says  the  bosun's  mate.  An'  that 
bosun's  mate  he  comes  to  me,  an'  he  says,  '  Come, 
tumble  up  to  the  mast-head,  old  puddin'  head,  an' 
see  if  you  can  smell  land.'  An'  so  I  tumbles  up  ac- 
cordin'  as  how  I  war  told,  an'  I  does  the  lookin'  out. 
"  At  the  same  time,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor, 
shifting  his  legs,  and  taking  a  squint  to  windward, 
"  the  flag  lef tenant  he  sends  fur  the  signal  ossifer, 
an'  he  says  to  him,  says  he,  '  The  admiral  says  we'd 
better  look  out.'  '  Werry  good,  sir,'  says  the  signal 
ossifer.  An'  with  that  he  sends  for  the  signal  quar- 
termaster, and  he  says  to  him,  says  he,  'The  admiral 
says  the  fleet  'd  better  look  out.  Send  up  No.  2741 ' 
(or  somethin'  o'  that  kind).  So  the  signal  quarter- 
master he  gets  out  the  flags,  an'  gets  a  signal  boy  to 
run  'em  up  to  the  main  yard-arm.  Then  putty  soon 


92  SEA    YARNS   FOB   BOYS 

the  other  ships  sent  jackies  to  the  mast-heads,  an' 
there  we  wos  all  four  on  us  a^lookin'  out." 

"And  did  you  really  smell  the  land?"  asked 
Henry. 

"  No,  I  didn't  smell  nothin'  'ceptin'  a  werry  strong 
breeze  from  the  sou'-sou'east  wot  war  a-tryin'  werry 
hard  fur  to  blow  my  nose  inside  out.  Howsum- 
ever,  that  ain't  got  nawthin'  to  do  with  this  'ere 
yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  ye.  I  stayed  up  there  fur  half 
an  hour  afore  I  seed  anythin'  to  report.  Byme-by, 
howsumever,  I  seed  a  sort  o'  rumpus  in  the  water  a 
mile  or  so  off  the  starboard  bow,  an'  then  I  seed 
there  were  somethin'  a-floating  there.  So  I  ups  an' 
I  sings  out,  '  Wrack  ho  !'  '  Were  away  ?'  howls  the 
ossifer  on  the  bridge,  an'  I  told  him.  He  sent  a  bo- 
sun's mate  to  report  it  to  the  cap'n,  an'  got  orders  to 
alter  his  course  so's  to  overhaul  it.  As  we  drawed  a 
little  nigher  to't  I  seed  it  wasn't  no  wrack,  so  I  sings 
out : 

"'On  deck!' 

"'What's  the  matter  with  you?'  asked  the  ossifer. 

"''  'Taint  no  wrack  at  all,  sir,'  says  I  to  him,  says 
I,  just  like  that. 

" '  Well,  what  is  it  ?'  says  he  to  me,  kind  o'  cross 
like. 

" '  It  'pears  to  be  somethin'  alive,'  says  I. 

"'Is  it  a  whale?' 

"  'No,  sir,  'tain't  no  whale.     It's  a  sea-sarpent.' 

"  The  officer  called  a  cadet  an'  sent  him  aloft  with 
one  o'  them  bino-peculiar  glasses.  That  there  cadet 


THE   DIVIDED    SEA-SERPENT  93 

looked  right  skeert  arter  he'd  trained  his  peepers  on 
the  thing. 

"  'Below  there!'  he  yelled. 

" '  Aye,  aye,'  came  the  answer. 

" '  It's  the  sea-sarpent,  sure,'  he  says. 

"  Then  the  ossifer  o'  the  watch  sent  a  messinger 
to  tell  the  cap'n,  an'  he  came  on  to  the  bridge  hisself. 
We  wos  a-gettin'  putty  close  on  to  the  beast  now,  so 
the  cap'n  give  orders  to  load  the  six-pounder  Hotch- 
kiss  in  the  starboard  bow,  an'  take  a  crack  at  the 
animule." 

"  Were  you  near  enough  to  see  what  it  looked 
like  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  I  should  say  we  wos,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor, 
"an'  it  weren't  putty  to  look  at.  His  body,  ef  you 
kin  say  a  sarpent  has  a  body,  were  green  an'  brown 
in  great  big  patches,  an'  it  were  covered  with  scales 
about  the  size  o'  dinner  plates.  These  here  scales 
were  white  on  the  under  side,  an'  w'en  he  bent  his- 
self so  that  the  j'ints  opened  an'  the  under  sides 
showed  he  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  werry 
large-sized  demon  out  o'  a  fairy  play  in  some  theay- 
tre.  But  his  body  weren't  nawthin'  w'en  ye  came  to 
look  at  his  head,  fur  that  were  simply  disgustin.' 
His  face  were  a  sort  o'  salmon-color,  jess  like  one  o' 
them  sick-lookin'  babboons  ye  see  in  cages  in  Cen- 
tral Park  in  Noo  Yawk,  an'  he  had  pink  hair  parted  in 
the  middle.  Cos  w'y,  he  were  bald-headed  on  top. 
He  looks  at  the  ship  kind  o'  lazy,  an'  blinks  his  eyes; 
then,  jess  as  they  wos  a-goin'  to  plug  away  at  him 


94  SEA    YAKNS   FOK   BOYS 

with  the  six-pounder,  ho  ups  flukes,  as  the  whalers 
say,  an'  goes  down. 

"  Howsumever,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  a 
momentary  pause,  "  he  didn't  stay  down  long,  but 
comes  up  on  the  other  side  o'  the  ship  an'  blows 
the  water  out  o'  his  nose  like  he  were  a  sparm-whale 
in  his  flurry. 

" ' Now,'  says  the  admiral,  'let  him  have  it.' 

"  An'  the  flag  lef tenant  says  to  the  cap'n,  an'  the 
cap'n  says  to  the  executive  ossifer,  an'  says  he  to 
the  diwision  ossifer  in  charge  o'  the  six-pounders, 
an'  says  the  diwision  ossifer  to  the  cap'n  o'  the  gun, 
'Commence  firin'.'  An'  bang  goes  the  gun.  An' 
bang  it  goes  agin.  An'  also  agin.  An'  wot  d'  ye 
think  happened  ?" 

"  What  ?" 

"The  bloomin'  sarpent  jess  kind  o'  swayed  one 
side,  like  a  good  boxer,  an'  let  the  shells  go  past 
him.  Then  he  opens  his  mouth  an'  he  laffs  fit  to 
kill  hisself." 

"Laughed?" 

"Yep,  that's  wot  I  said.  He  laffs,  an'  all  on  one 
note,  like  this : 

_^.    ~+. i0T~  ijf'.    ^:    ~.0~.   '^~ 

ha    ha    ha       ha    ha    ha    ha ! 

"  An'  his  voice  sounded  edzackly  like  a  bugle. 

"  '  Cease  firin','  says  the  admiral. 

"An'  the  flag  lef  tenant  tells  the  cap'n,  an'  he 


THE   DIVIDED   SEA-SERPENT  95 

tells  the  executive  ossifer,  an'  he  tells  the  diwision 
ossif er,  an'  he  says  to  the  captain  o'  the  gun,  '  Cease 
firm'.'  So  he  ceases.  An'  we  all  waits  to  see  wot 
they'd  do  nex'.  Wot  d'  ye  suppose  they  tried  ?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Henry.  "I  should 
think  they  would  all  have  run  away;  I  should." 

"Waal,  that 'd  hardly  do,  would  it?  No,  they 
made  up  their  minds  they'd  try  an'  catch  him.  So 
they  had  a  gang  o'  seamen  rig  up  a  shark  line  an' 
bait  it  with  a  piece  o'  nice  fresh  pork.  They  hove 
that  over  the  side,  an'  waited  to  see  if  the  sea-sar- 
pent  would  tackle  it.  Sure  'nuff,  he  went  down  arter 
that  bait  an'  grabbed  it  so  hard  he  nigh  pulled  some 
o'  the  hands  overboard.  The  nex'  second  the  line 
snapped,  an'  the  fishin'  party  all  rolled  over  one  an- 
other back'ard.  The  sarpent  came  up  an'  sat  up 
there,  grinnin'  and  chewin'  away  like  he  were  the 
most  satisfied  pusson  on  'arth.  He  were  a-havin'  a 
nice  fresh  pork  breakfast,  he  were,  an'  it  didn't  cost 
him  nothin'  neither.  The  men  pulled  in  the  line  an' 
found  that  the  bait,  an'  the  hook,  too,  was  gone. 
One  on  'em  says  he,  '  I  hope  it  '11  chuck  the  bloomin' 
red-headed  sea-monkey  to  death,'  says  he,  just  like 
that.  But  it  didn't.  No,  siree.  Wot  that  there 
sarpent  didn't  know  ain't  wuth  tellin'  about.  W'en 
he  gets  through  chewin'  the  pork  off  the  hook,  he 
winks  both  eyes,  draws  back  his  head  quicker  'n 
lightnin',  an',  snappin'  it  like  a  whip,  he  throws  the 
iron  hook  at  the  arter  bridge,  where  it  catches  old 
Whiskers'  cap  an'  knocks  it  clean  over  into  the  sea." 


96  SEA   YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

The  Old  Sailor  now  paused  to  indulge  in  one  of 
his  quiet  laughs. 

"  Mebbe,"  he  continued,  presently,  "  the  admiral 
weren't  mad,  an'  mebbe  he  were.  Leastways,  it 
ain't  fur  me  to  go  a-criticisin'  o'  so  great  a  ossifer. 
Anyhow,  he  turns  kind  o'  purple  around  the  mouth, 
an'  gives  orders  to  ram  the  bloomin'  reptile.  Now, 
I  don't  see  w'y  the  sarpent  didn't  dive,  but  he  didn't 
seem  to  be  up  to  them  rammin'  tactics.  So  the  Chi- 
cago hits  him  square  in  the  middle,  and  cuts  him  in 
two." 
.  "And  that  was  the  end  of  him,"  exclaimed  Henry. 

"Oh,  it  were,  were  it?  P'r'aps  it's  you  wot's 
a-tellin'  o'  this  yarn,  an'  not  me.  No,  it  weren't  the 
end  o'  him,  not  by  a  long  sight.  Cos  w'y,  there  wos 
two  sarpents  now  instid  o'  one." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Jess  wot  I  says.  The  hind  part  o'  him  sprouted 
a  new  head  in  less'n  half  a  minute,  only  it  had  blue 
hair,  an'  then  the  two  sarpents  sat  up  on  their  hunk- 
ers an'  laffed  at  us,  only  now  they  had  two  voices, 
an'  they  laughed  this  : 


. 

-0-  -0-  -0- 

Ha    ha     ha    ha  ha   ha   ha  ha  ha    ha  ha  ha   ha  ! 


The  Old  Sailor  gave  a  very  good  imitation  of  a 
bugle. 

"  That's  the  way  it  sounded,"  he  said.     "  Now  the 


THE   DIVIDED    SEA-SERPENT  97 

admiral  got  putty  well  rattled,  but  he  wosn't  a-goin' 
to  give  in,  so  he  orders  the  Boston  to  ram  one  o'  the 
new  sarpents,  an'  he'd  ram  the  other  with  the  Chi- 
cago. They  perceeds  to  do  so,  an'  as  any  one  might 
'a'  knowed  arter  wot  'd  already  happened,  they  had 
four  sarpents,  with  red,  white,  blue,  and  green  hair, 
a-sittin'  up  and  laffin'  at  'em.  An'  now  they  had 
four  notes,  an'  laffed  like  this : 


ha. 


" '  Wot  call's  that  ?'  screamed  the  admiral. 

"'Please,  sir,'  says  the  signal  ossifer,  'that's  the 
beginnin'  o'  a  song  called  "  Where  did  you  get  that 
hat?' " 

"  The  admiral  he  orders  the  ship's  engines  turned 
up  to  full  speed.  'I  want  to  get  away  from  this,' 
says  he.  The  signal  ossifer  whispered  somethin'  to 
him,  an'  he  says,  '  Try  it.'  So  the  bugler  were  or- 
dered to  sound  the  church-call  over  the  side  at  the 
sarpents.  He  blowed  it  kind  o'  shaky,  but  still  you 
could  tell  wot  it  were.  Wot  do  you  think  hap- 
pened?" 

"What?" 

"  All  four  sarpents  let  out  a  scream  that  sounded 
like  they  was  bein'  cut  to  pieces,  turned  up  their 
tails  an'  dived  straight  down.  An'  that  were  the 
last  we  ever  seed  on  'em ;  but  we  1'arned  w'en  we 


98  SEA   YARNS   FOB   BOYS 

got  into  port  that  the  sea-sarpent  had  been  seen  the 
werry  next  day  in  four  different  places,  hundreds  o' 
miles  apart.  We  never  said  a  word,  but  we  knowed 
that  ef  it  hadn't  been  fur  old  Whiskers,  there  would 
never  'a'  been  four  sea-sarpents  instid  o'  one." 


A  MONKEY  CAPTAIN 

IT  was  a  hot  morning  with  a  flat  calm.  The  sea 
was  as  smooth  as  molasses,  and  the  swells  ran  in 
long,  slow,  oily  folds,  reflecting  the  clouds  in  queer 
distorted  smudges  of  white  and  silver.  The  sails 
of  two  or  three  schooners  which  were  not  far  off 
shore  hung  limp  and  flapping  to  and  fro,  while  the 
creaking  of  the  swaying  spars  could  plainly  be 
heard  on  shore.  Every  visible  object  wavered  as 
the  tremulous  invisible  curtain  of  radiating  heat 
arose  before  it.  Everything  seemed  to  be  over- 
come with  lassitude  except  a  fast  steam  -  yacht, 
which  was  ripping  the  lucent  blue  into  shivering 
sprays  of  show  under  her  black  prow  as  she  fled 
southward,  doing  a  good  seventeen  knots  an  hour. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  muttered  the  Old  Sailor,  dangling 
his  legs  over  the  end  of  the  pier,  "  that's  wot's 
knocked  the  sport  out  o'  yachtin'.  Nobody  wants 
fur  to  sail  now  jess  fur  the  fun  o'  sailin'.  They 
wants  to  get  somew'ere,  an'  get  there  soon,  an'  so 
they  goes  an'  builds  them  there  iron  kettles,  an' 
goes  steamin'  away,  blow  fair  or  blow  foul.  An' 
they  calls  that  yachtin'." 

Then  he  laughed  one   of   those   peculiar  laughs 


100  SEA    YARNS   FOR    BOYS 

of  his,  which  seemed  to  be  all  on  the  inside.  Pres- 
ently he  put  his  hand  to  his  brow  and  said  : 

"Blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  I  ain't  a-sweatin'  sittin' 
still.  It's  'most  as  hot  as  it  were  the  time  Cap'n 
Jonas  Whitby  an'  me  caught  the  monkey." 

"  What  was  that  ?  A  monkey,  did  you  say  ?"  It 
was  the  voice  of  Hemy  Hovey,  who,  accompanied 
by  his  brother  George,  had  stolen  up  behind  the  Old 
Sailor  unheard. 

"  Oh,  there  ye  are  !"  exclaimed  the  Old  Sailor. 
"  Ain't  it  hot  enough  fur  ye  in  the  house  without 
comin'  out  in  the  sun  ?" 

"  Why,  we  don't  mind  the  heat,"  said  Henry ; 
"  besides,  we  were  in  swimming  a  few  minutes  ago, 
and  now  we  are  perfectly  cool." 

"  And,"  added  George,  "  we'd  like  very  much  to 
hear  about  that  monkey." 

"He  were  a  werry  intellectooal  monkey,  he 
were,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  "  an'  arter  I  got  to  know 
him  right  well,  I  were  mighty  sorry  I'd  helped  to 
catch  him.  'Cos  w'y,  he  caught  me." 

"  Oh,  please  tell  us  about  him  !"  exclaimed 
Henry. 

"  Don't  hurry  me,"  said  the  Old  Sailor.  "  I  ain't 
so  young  as  I  were,  an'  it  takes  me  more  time  to 
git  under  way." 

"  But  when  you  do  get  under  way,"  said  Henry, 
"  you  can  carry  a  lot  of  canvas." 

"  My  son,  don't  try  to  talk  too  salt.  It  don't  come 
nateral  to  a  landsman.  Howsumever,  I  were  a-goin' 


A   MONKEY    CAPTAIN  101 

to  tell  you  about  me  an'  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  an' 
the  monkey.  I  don't  reckon  he  would  'a'  been 
edzackly  satisfied  to  be  called  a  monkey,  though.  I 
s'pose  he  war  a  sort  o'  ape,  or  a  orang-otang.  Anny- 
how,  he  were  the  biggest,  smartest,  humanest  mon- 
key wot  I  ever  seed,  an'  he  knowed  a  heap  more  'n 
lots  o'  men,  an'  could  learn  more  'n  twicet  as  fast. 
It  were  in  the  year  o'  '57.  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby 
were  master  o'  the  ship  Riled  Rags.  I  dunno  w'y 
she  were  called  that  'ceptin'  that  it  were  her  name. 
I  were  second-mate,  an'  a  mean,  low-down  fellow 
named  Jeroboam  Towzle  were  fust-mate.  I  ain't 
goin'  to  say  nothin'  ag'in  him  now,  'cos  w'y,  he's 
under  hatches,  an'  ye  mustn't  say  nothin' .ag'in'  a 
man  w'en  he's  there.  But  Towzle  were  not  nice. 
Ef  he  had  'a'  bin,  mebbe  all  o'  this  here  yarn  wot 
I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  ye  wouldn't  'a'  took  place. 
Annyhow,  the  Jailed  Mags  were  bound  fur  the  port 
o'  Hoodoo,  w'ich  as  everybody  knows  is  in  latitood 
49°  15'  south  an'  longitood  192°  72'  west,  w'ich  is 
no  more  nor  less  'n  sayin'  that  it's  on  the  east  coast 
o'  Africa,  about  275  miles  north  o'  You  Gander. 
The  Bailed  Hags  carried  a  permiskyous  cargo,  fur 
Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  he  allowed  that  he  didn't 
know  jess  edzackly  wot  the  fashions  was  at  Cape 
Town,  where  he  laid  out  fur  to  call,  an'  he  were 
detarmined  to  have  somethin'  to  please  all  tastes. 

"  Waal,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  mopping 
the  perspiration  from  his  brow  with  a  large  red 
handkerchief,  "  there  mought  'a'  bin  many  a  wuss 


102  SKA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

v'yage  than  wot  wo  made  in  the  lulled  Rags  from 
Sandy  Hook  light-ship  to  Table  Bay.  I  won't  say 
as  how  we  didn't  git  in  the  doldrums  off  St.  Paul's 
Rocks,  and  I  won't  deny  that  w'en  we  wos  about  175 
miles  nor'west  o'  the  bay  we  fell  in  with  the  gale  o' 
wind  w'ich  stopped  the  Flyirf  Dutchman,  an'  it 
blowed  us  clean  away  down  into  the  latitood  where 
they  don't  have  no  summer  'ceptin'  in  the  almanac. 
Howsumever,  arter  bein'  hove  to  fur  a  week  with 
the  seas  runnin'  ninety  feet  high,  accordin'  to  my 
carkilations,  an'  rollin'  our  yard-arms  under,  we  got 
a  fair  wind,  an'  clappin'  on  all  stuns'ls  we  squeezed 
the  old  hooker  up  to  thirteen  knots  an  hour,  an' 
climbed  back  into  the  civilized  part  o'  the  ocean. 
We  made  good  tradin'  in  Table  Bay,  an'  Cap'n  Jonas 
Whitby,  who  were  the  chief  owner  o'  the  Jailed 
Hags,  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  '  I'll  git  a  pianny  fur 
my  wife  an'  a  boardin'-school  eddication  fur  my 
darter  out  o'  this  'ere  same  v'yage,'  says  he  to  me. 
An'  says  I  to  him,  '  Werry  good,  too,  sir,'  says  I  to 
him,  jess  like  that,  bein'  second-mate  o'  the  ship  an' 
more  used  to  workin'  than  talkin'. 

"  From  Cape  Town  we  went  right  up  to  Hoodoo, 
it  bein'  our  puppose  there  to  trade  with  the  natives 
fur  elephants'  tusks.  Now  Hoodoo  are  about  two 
miles  back  from  the  sea,  but  there  are  a  werry  fair 
harbor  on  the  coast.  We  laid  there  at  anchor  fur 
about  two  weeks,  doorin'  w'ich  time  we  wos  a-gettin' 
the  remains  o'  our  cargo  ashore  an'  the  ivory  aboard. 
One  morn  in',  jess  before  we  wos  ready  to  set  sail, 


A   MONKEY   CAPTAIN  103 

I  seed  a  large  an'  han'some  monkey  a-walkin'  up  an' 
down  the  beach  near  the  edge  o'  the  forest.  He 
war  a-scratchin'  his  head  once  in  a  w'ile,  an'  lookin' 
kind  o'  puzzled,  like  a  man  wot  had  found  hisself 
onexpectedly  in  a  noo  place.  I  p'inted  him  out  to 
Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby,  an'  says  he  to  me,  says  he, 
'  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  capture  that  there  monk  an'  take 
him  back  to  Noo  Yawk,  w'ere  I'll  get  a  worry  good 
price  fur  him.'  An'  says  I  to  him,  says  I,  '  Cap'n 
Jonas  Whitby,  I  wouldn't  have  nothin'  to  do  with 
a  monk  like  that  wot  looks  as-  if  he  knowed  more  'n 
a  respectable  sailor-man,'  says  I.  But  Cap'n  Jonas 
Whitby  he  laughed,  an'  ordered  a  boat  got  ready 
fur  to  take  him  ashore.  He  were  a  werry  particular 
man,  were  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby,  an'  ef  he  wanted  a 
monkey,  he'd  jess  got  to  have  one. 

"Waal,  he  tuk  a  lasso  with  him  fur  to  throw 
over  the  monkey's  head  when  he'd  sneak  up  close 
enough.  I  were  a-watchin'  him  all  the  time,  an' 
blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  I  don't  think  the  monk  were 
too.  Annyhow,  w'en  the  Cap'n  finally  got  around 
behind  the  beast  an'  threw  the  lasso  over  his  head, 
the  bloomin'  monk  didn't  try  to  get  away  at  all. 
No,  sir  ;  on  the  contrairy,  he  werry  dignifiedlike 
walked  along  the  beach  to  where  the  boat  were,  step- 
ped in,  an'  sat  down  in  the  starn-sheets  werry  much  as 
ef  he  were  a  actin'  rear-admii'al.  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby 
walked  along  behind,  and  seemed  to  think  it  war 
the  werry  finest  joke  wot  he'd  ever  met  with.  He 
came  off  with  the  monk  in  the  boat,  brought  him 


104  SEA   YAKNS   FOR   BOYS 

aboard  the  Jailed  Hags,  walked  him  up  to  me,  an' 
says  he,  'Let  me  interjuce  you  to  Admiral  Hoodoo.' 
That's  what  he  called  the  monk,  jess  like  that,  he 
bein'  Cap'n  o'  the  ship.  The  monk,  he  never  says  a 
word  ;  'cos  w'y,  bein'  a  monkey,  how  could  he  ? 
But  I  didn't  like  the  way  he  looked  out  o'  his  eye. 
ITowsumever,  I  didn't  say  nothin',  fur  I  knowed 
that  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  would  jess  laugh  at  me. 
The  monk  behaved  hisself  so  well  that  he  was  al- 
lowed to  go  around  the  ship  putty  much  as  he  liked, 
all  hands  watchin'  to  see  that  he  didn't  get  into  any 
boat  wot  were  goin'  ashore.  The  monk  didn't  seem 
to  want  to  get  away.  He  went  all  over  the  ship, 
though,  an'  he  examined  everything  as  ef  he  wos  a 
human  bein'  chuck-full  o'  curiosity.  He  even  went 
into  the  chart-room  an'  pulled  down  the  charts  an' 
looked  'em  all  over  werry  solemnlike.  I  thought 
that  were  funny  then,  but  arterwards  I  didn't." 

"  Why  didn't  you  afterwards  ?"  asked  George. 

"  That  are  wot  I  are  a-comin'  to  in  the  course  o' 
this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  you,"  gravely  re- 
sponded the  Old  Sailor.  He  again  mopped  the  per- 
spiration from  his  brow  and  proceeded.  "  Byme-by 
we  hove  up  the  mud-hook,  an'  got  under  way  fur 
home.  We  had  all  the  ivory  we  wanted,  an'  one 
monk  wot  I  didn't  think  we  did  want.  I  were 
mighty  sure  that  monk  were  a  Jonah." 

"  What  is  a  Jonah  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  A  Jonah  are  what  a  sailor-man  calls  any  person 
wot  he  thinks  makes  bad  luck  fur  the  ship.  Fur 


A   MONKEY    CAPTAIN  105 

three  days  we  had  the  finest  kind  o'  weather  an'  fair 
winds.  That  were  because  the  bloomin'  monk  were 
sea-sick.  On  the  fourth  day  the  monk  got  well  an' 
went  an'  sat  down  on  the  poop  alongside  o'  the  man 
at  the  wheel.  He  hadn't  been  there  ten  minutes  w'en 
the  bosun  comes  aft  an'  reports  that  two  o'  the  men 
in  the  fo'k'sle  was  werry  sick,  an'  he'd  like  werry 
much  ef  one  o'  the  mates  would  come  an'  take  a 
look  at  'em.  I  went,  an'  had  to  come  back  an'  tell 
the  cap'n  that  I  thought  they  had  a  fever  o'  some 
sort.  An',  sure  'miff,  they  had.  Inside  o'  twenty- 
four  hours  them  men  wos  ravin'  lunatics,  an'  four 
more  wos  took  down.  Then  it  come  on  to  blow 
from  the  sou'west.  Bein'  short-handed,  we  couldn't 
get  the  IPiled  Hags  down  to  short  canvas  as  soon 
as  we  ought  to,  an'  the  result  were  that  her  mizzen- 
to'gallant  mast  were  carried  away,  an'  five  men 
wos  knocked  overboard  an  lost.  All  this  time  that 
bloomin'  monk  seemed  quite  easy  in  his  mind.  He 
jess  walked  around  the  ship,  a-hangin'  on  to  ropes 
with  them  big  paws,  an'  examinin'  things  keerfully 
wherever  he  went. 

"  Waal,  to  make  the  story  short,  when  that  gale 
were  over,  between  men  lost  overboard  an'  disabled, 
an'  others  laid  up  with  the  fever,  there  were  nobody 
left  to  handle  the  ship  'ceptin'  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby 
an'  me.  The  cap'n  he  says  to  me,  says  he,  '  Wot 
d'  ye  think  we'd  better  do  ?'  That's  wot  he  says. 
An'  says  I  to  him,  says  I,  '  I  guess  we  got  to  make 
fur  the  nearest  port  we  kin  with  the  wind  aft.' 


106  SEA   YARNS    FOB   BOYS 

Jess  as  I  said  that  I  turned  my  head,  an'  there  were 
the  monk  standin'  right  behind  us  an'  listenin'  to 
every  woi'd  we  said.  And  wot  d'  ye  think  happened 
then  ?" 

"  What  ?"  exclaimed  both  boys. 

"The  monk  picks  up  a  belay in'-pin  an'  drives  the 
cap'n  an'  me  away  from  the  wheel,  wich  the  same 
he  tuk  hold  o'  hisself,  an'  beginned  fur  to  steer 
the  ship,  jess  like  that,  him  bein'  a  brown  monkey 
an'  we  bein'  two  sailor  -  men.  An'  the  bloomin' 
monk  he  puts  the  ship  on  a  nor'westerly  course,  an.' 
sits  there  a-lookin'  puffickly  satisfied  with  the  entire 
perceedin's.  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  he  looked  at  me 
an'  I  looked  at  him,  an'  then  we  went  below  to  get 
the  cap'n's  pistols.  But,  bless  ye  !  the  monk  were 
jess  as  smart  as  we  wos.  As  soon  as  we'd  opened 
the  chest  an'  got  out  the  pistols,  an'  afore  we  could 
load  'em,  there  were  the  monk  right  alongside  o'  us, 
an'  he  grabbed  the  pistols  out  o'  the  cap'n's  hands, 
an'  thro  wed  'em  through  a  port  into  the  sea.  Then 
be  up  an'  cuffed  each  o'  us  alongside  o'  the  jaw  an' 
shuk  his  head,  as  much  as  to  say  that  we  mustn'  try 
any  monkey  business  with  him,  'cos  why,  he  were 
in  that  business  hisself. 

"Then,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  wiping 
away  the  perspiration  once  more,  "the  monk  or- 
dered us  on  deck,  an'  we  had  to  go.  Once  there  he 
tuk  the  wheel  agin.  The  wind  were  dead  astern,  an' 
I  knowed  that  ef  we  kep'  on  sailin'  on  that  course 
we'd  get  back  putty  near  to  where  we  started  from. 


;  AN'  THE  BLOOMIN'  MONK  SAT  TIIKRE  A  LOOKIN'  SATISFIED.'  : 


A   MONKEY    CAPTAIN  107 

Now  that  monkey  seemed  to  know  that  jess  as  well 
as  we  did.  Fust  thing  I  knowed  he  were  makin' 
motions  at  us,  an'  at  the  main-tops'l,  which  were 
reefed.  We  suspected  wot  he  wanted,  an'  portended 
not  to  onderstan'.  Then  he  comes  down  off  the 
poop  with  a  jump,  an'  begins  to  club  us  with  a  be- 
layin'-pin,  jess  like  he  were  a  fust-mate  an'  we  two 
onwillin'  sailors.  So  we  had  to  go  aloft  an'  get 
the  reefs  out  o'  that  sail,  w'ich  the  same  it  are  no 
easy  job  fur  two  pussons.  But  the  monk  kep'  us 
puttin'  more  canvas  on  her  all  day,  an'  by  night  she 
war  bowlin'  along  at  about  nine  knots  an  hour. 
The  monk  made  us  git  our  supper  an'  his  too.  Then 
he  put  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  at  the  wheel,  an'  began 
to  look  round  fur  a  place  to  sleep.  Suddenly  he 
seemed  to  have  a  noo  idea.  He  tuk  his  belayin'- 
pin  between  his  teeth,  jumped  into  the  mizzen 
riggin',  ran  up  to  the  mizzen -top,  an'  curled  up 
there.  You  see,  he  could  tell  the  minute  we  changed 
the  course  o'  the  ship. 

"Arter  that  display  o'  jedgment,  Cap'n  Jonas 
Whitby  and  me  we  jess  give  right  in,  an'  let  the 
monk  have  his  own  way.  'Cos  w'y,  wot  could  we 
do  with  all  the  men  that  were  aboard  a-layin'  below 
with  a  fever  ?  Even  ef  we  had  got  the  ship  on  an- 
other course  we  wasn't  strong  enough  to  haul  the 
yards  around  so  as  to  trim  the  sails  proper.  So, 
to  bring  this  here  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin'  ye  more 
towards  its  nateral  end,  I'll  jess  say  that  Cap'n 
Jonas  Whitby  an'  me  sailed  that  there  blessed  old 


108  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

hooker  the  Jailed  Rags  under  the  orders  o'  a  long- 
legged  orang-otang  for  three  days,  and  then  we 
sighted  land.  We  managed  to  get  word  down  to 
the  men  forward  o'  wot  were  goin'  on,  but  they  was 
too  sick  to  help  us.  The  land  proved  to  be  a  p'int 
on  the  coast  about  two  miles  below  Hoodoo.  The 
monk  helped  us  to  let  go  the  anchor  an'  git  a  boat 
lowered,  an'  he  were  as  strong  as  five  men,  he  were. 
Then  he  made  us  row  him  ashore.  Wen  we  got 
there  he  made  us  get  out  o'  the  boat,  an'  march 
ahead  o'  him  fur  about  a  mile  back  into  the  forest, 
an'  there  we  walked  right  into  a  reg'lar  village  o' 
monkeys  livin'  in  thatched  huts.  Wen  they  seed 
him  they  set  up  a  mos'  drefful  squealin'.  He  point- 
ed at  us,  an'  they  squealed  more.  We  made  up  our 
minds  that  our  time  had  come,  but  we  soon  learned 
that  they  didn't  want  to  kill  us.  They  wanted  to 
keep  us  fur  slaves,  an'  make  us  work  fur  them. 
Lucky,  though,  w'en  we  came  ashore  we  brought  a 
gallon  demijohn  full  o'  hard  cider.  Wen  we  wos 
shut  up  in  a  hut  fur  the  night,  we  put  the  demijohn 
outside,  an'  the  monkeys  got  it.  O'  course  they'd 
never  had  annythin'  stronger  'n  cocoanut  milk  be- 
fore, an'  it  went  to  their  heads.  So  they  all  fell 
asleep,  an'  slept  like  they  wos  dead. 

"  Then  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  an'  me  we  riz  up,  an' 
climbed  out  through  a  hole  in  the  thatched  roof  o' 
our  hut,  an'  run.  We  run  the  whole  way  down  to 
the  beach,  jumped  into  the  boat,  an'  rowed  off  to 
the  ship.  Early  in  the  mornin'  we  found  that  half 


A   MONKEY    CAPTAIN  109 

a  dozen  o'  the  sick  men  was  well  enough  to  help  us 
git  up  the  anchor,  an'  we  started  at  it.  But,  bless 
you,  the  monks  wasn't  through  with  us  yit." 

"  What  did  they  do  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  They  come  down  to  the  beach  by  hundreds, 
each  one  carryin'  two  or  three  cocoanuts,  an' 
screechin'  terrible.  Wen  they  seed  how  fur  the 
ship  were  from  the  shore,  they  got  hold  o'  young 
saplin's,  bent  'em  down  to  the  ground,  stuck  cocoa- 
nuts  on  the  top  branches,  an'  let  go.  My  lands  ! 
The  way  them  saplin's  fired  them  cocoanuts  at  us 
were  most  terrifyin'.  We  worked  hard  an'  got  the 
anchor,  an',  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  the  wind 
were  off  shore,  an'  we  soon  got  out  o'  reach.  An' 
so  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  an'  me  an'  the  sailors  an' 
the  Jfiled  Rags  all  got  back  to  America  agin.  But 
what  d'  ye  s'pose  Cap'n  Jonas  Whitby  does  now  w'en 
he  sees  a  orang-otang  ?" 

"  What  ?"  asked  the  boys. 

"  He  jess  picks  up  his  heels  an'  runs  away,"  said 
the  Old  Sailor,  gravely.  "  'Cos  w'y,  Cap'n  Jonas 
Whitby  ain't  a-takin'  no  more  chances  on  monks." 


THE  BOYKING  ISLANDS 


T  was  a  hard  winter  day — 
one  of  those  days  when  the 
horizon  seems  to  have  been 
cut  out  of  cold  steel  and 
thrust  up  against  the  sky 

just  to  make  the  clouds  look  far,  far  away.  The  Old 
Sailor  walked  briskly  out  on  the  pier,  catching  the 
nails  on  the  soles  of  his  shoes  with  sturdy  digs  into 
the  little  ovals  of  ice  that  gleamed  here  and  there 
where  the  salt  spray  had  whirled  through  the  biting 
air  and  frozen  almost  as  soon  as  it  touched  the  planks. 
The  two  boys  spied  their  old  friend  as  he  beat  to 


THE   BOYKING   ISLANDS  111 

windward  from  the  outer  end  of  the  pier,  and  with 
glad  shouts  ran  to  meet  him. 

"  Come  up  to  the  house,"  called  Henry  ;  "  you 
must  be  half  frozen." 

"Waal,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor,  with  a  quizzical 
smile,  "I  ain't  edzackly  wot  ye  might  call  half 
frozen,  nor  I  ain't  parb'iled  nuther.  It  are  right 
properly  cool  this  'ere  day,  an'  I  don't  mind  ef  I  do 
drink  some  more  o'  your  mother's  b'ilin'  hot  coffee, 
w'ich  the  same  it  are  o'  the  werry  finest." 

The  three  friends  walked  briskly  to  the  house, 
and  the  Old  Sailor,  having  divested  himself  of  a 
huge  "comforter,"  which  went  round  and  round  his 
neck,  for  all  the  world,  as  he  described  it,  like  a 
"  gasket  around  a  Irishman's  reef,"  sat  down  and 
warmed  his  heart  with  the  ready  coffee. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  peering  through  the  window  at 
the  hard  blue  sea,  "look  at  that  'ere  barky  out 
there  a-staggerin'  along  under  her  royals  in  this  'ere 
breeze  o'  wind  w'en  she  might  jess  as  well  be  under 
to'gallants  an'  doin'  as  many  knots  an'  a-savin'  her 
masts.  But,  bless  you  !  some  cap'ns  'ain't  got  no 
sort  o'  hearts  fur  their  blessed  ships.  Now  there 
were  old  Silas  Mackleboy,  wot  were  cap'n  o'  the 
ship  Mock  Turtle,  w'ich  the  same  I  were  fust-mate, 
w'en  she  ran  afoul  o'  the  Boyking  Islands.  An'  by 
the  same  token  that  were  one  o'  the  werry  partick- 
lerly  piculiar  carcumstances  o'  my  voyidges." 

"  The  Boyking  Islands  !"  exclaimed  Henry  ;  "  why, 
they're  not  in  my  geography." 


112  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

"  No,  nor  nobody's  else's,"  said  the  Old  Sailor ; 
"  they  ain't  on  no  chart ;  an'  I  don't  more'n  half 
b'lieve  there  is  any  sich  place,  'ceptin'  that  I  bin 
there  an'  seed  'em." 

"  Where  did  you  see  them  ?" 

"Waal,  that  are  the  werry  yarn  wot  I'm  a-goin' 
fur  to  tell  ye." 

The  Old  Sailor  tossed  off  the  last  dregs  of  the 
coffee,  wiped  his  mouth,  cast  a  quick  glance  at  the 
staggering  bark,  settled  himself  back  in  the  chair, 
and  began  thus : 

"  Waal,  may  I  never  scuttle  a  lobster-pot  agin  ef 
this  'ere  weren't  the  werry  way  it  happened.  It 
were  in  the  year  1859,  an'  we  sot  sail  from  Bosting 
with  a  mixed  cargo  o'  beans  an'  perlite  literatoor  fur 
distribution  among  the  ignorant  savidges  o'  Pata- 
gonia. It  were  a  scheme  o'  some  Bosting  ladies  fur 
eddikatin'  of  'em  up  to  the  p'int  o'  wearin'  shirts 
along  with  their  collars.  Howsumever,  that  'ain't 
got  nothin'  to  do  with  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-tellin' 
ye.  Cap'n  Silas,  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he,  '  The  sooner 
we  gets  down  there  an'  discharges  this  'ere  cargo  o' 
heavy  feedin'  an'  readin,'  the  sooner  I'll  feel  safe 
aboard  o'  my  own  ship.'  So  wot  does  he  do  but  he 
cracks  on  sail  till  I  jess  about  reckoned  that  ef  it 
blowed  any  harder  the  bloomin'  old  hooker  'd  open 
up  all  her  seams  an'  let  the  beans  right  out  into 
Davy  Jones's  locker.  We  wos  a-smotherin'  an' 
a-smokin'  through  it  all  the  time  fur  the  fust  week, 
an'  in  the  night  watches  I  used  to  think  I  could  jess 


THE    BOYKING   ISLANDS  113 

fairly  see  the  Southern  Cross  a-climbin'  up  behind 
the  sea,  an'  gittin'  ready  fur  to  come  into  sight  with 
a  hop,  skip,  an'  a  jump,  like  a  circus  clown  a-hollerin' 
'Here  we  is  agin.'  Waal,  sure  'nuff,  we  run  ca- 
sraack  into  the  doldrums. 

"This  'ere  sort  o'  thing  went  on  fur  six  days. 
Oncet  in  a  while  a  little  puff  'd  come  along  an'  jess 
put  steerage  -  way  on  her,  but  practically  she  only 
kind  o'  washed  along  with  the  surface  current. 
Waal,  Cap'n  Silas  were  'most  crazy,  w'en,  all  on  a 
suddent,  one  o'  the  hands  wot  was  doin'  a  odd  job 
aloft  sings  out,  '  Land  ho  !'  Nobody  said  a  word 
fur  a  minute,  'cos  w'y,  we  was  right  down  on  to  the 
hequator,  an'  there  weren't  no  land  near  us,  accordin' 
to  the  chart,  nearer  'n  St.  Paul's  Rocks,  w'ich  the 
same  wos  about  five  hundred  miles  east  o'  us.  Cap'n 
Silas  axed  the  man  w'ere  the  land  were,  an'  he  said 
as  how  it  were  right  ahead  o'  us.  Then  Cap'n  Silas 
allowed  as  how  he  wos  about  to  make  a  discovery 
o'  a  new  island,  an'  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he, '  I'm  a-goin' 
fur  to  explore  this  'ere,  land  an'  find  out  what  it  are.' 

"Waal,  blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  'twarn't  two  days 
afore  we  got  to  the  bloomin'  island,  an'  then  we  sees 
there  was  two  on  'em,  with  a  small  channel  atween 
'em.  We  was  a-wonderin'  whether  we  couldn't 
make  a  anchorage  in  the  mouth  of  this  channel  w'en 
we  seed  a  boat  a-puttin'  orf  from  the  shore.  Cap'n 
Silas  had  arms  sarved  out,  'cos  w'y,  we  didn't  know 
but  the  natyves  might  be  fond  o'  eatin'  sailor-men. 
But  putty  soon  the  boat  came  within  hailin'  distance, 


114  SEA    YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

an'  then  we  seed  that  it  were  manned  by  middle- 
aged  an'  old  men,  an'  a  boy  o'  ten  were  in  command. 
An'  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  'I  wonder  ef  these  'ere 
blessed  islands  is  settled  by  a  few  ships'  companies 
of  the  United  States  navy?'  sez  I.  The  boy  he  sig- 
nified that  his  designs  wos  entirely  peacific,  an'  he 
were  allowed  to  come  aboard.  As  soon  as  he  seed 
Cap'n  Silas,  he  walked  up  to  him,  and  sez  he  to  him, 
sez  he,  'His  Majesty  King  Bucky  the  Seckind  would 
be  werry  pleased  to  have  you  wisit  him  at  his  castle, 
an'  he'd  like  to  know  ef  there's  anything  wot  ye 
wants.' 

"An'  the  cap'n  he  ups  an'  sez  he,  'I  wouldn't 
mind  fillin'  my  water -tanks.'  An'  the  boy  sez  to 
him,  sez  he,  '  Fetch  your  ship  to  anchor  in  the  chan- 
nel yonder  ;  there's  ten  fathoms  there,  an'  ye'll  find 
a  well  about  a  quarter  o'  a  mile  to  the  south'ard. 
You  needn't  be  afraid  o'  landin'  men.  Nobody  '11 
not  do  ye  no  harm  here.  We  is  peaceable  kids,  an' 
all  we  axes  is  to  be  let  alone.' 

"Waal,  the  long  an'  short  o'  the  whole  business 
were  that  most  o'  us  went  ashore,  me  a-goin'  with 
the  cap'n  to  wisit  his  majesty.  We  was  putty  much 
puzzled  afore  we  got  there,  'cos  w'y  :  everywhere 
we  seed  old  people  workin',  an'  boys  bossin'  'em. 
W'y,  we  stopped  stock-still  in  front  o'  one  house 
hearing  a  twelve-year-old  boy  sayin', '  Now,  mother, 
get  up  out  o'  that  an'  peel  the  potaters  ;  an',  father, 
it's  five  minutes  arter  nine,  an'  you  'ain't  bin  down 
to  buy  my  mornin'  candy  yet.  Come,  now,  jump, 


THE    BOYKING    ISLANDS  115 

i 

or  I'll  send  you  to  bed  without  any  supper  to-night.' 
Cap'n  Silas,  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he, '  I'd  like  to  give  that 
boy  a  sound  spankin'.'  An'  our  escort,  a  boy  o'  ten, 
sez  he,  'You'd  better  not  let  the  king  hear  any  such 
talk,  or  he'll  have  you  spanked.'  '  Me  spanked  ?' 
sez  Cap'n  Silas.  '  Yes,'  sez  the  boy.  '  Only  grown- 
up folks  gets  spanked  in  the  Boyking  Islands,  an' 
we  makes  'em  holler,  too,  an'  promise  never  to  do  it 
agin.' 

"  Waal,  we  wondered  more  an'  more  wot  kind  o' 
a  place  we'd  got  into,  but  we  didn't  say  nothin' 
more,  but  waited  to  see  the  king.  Bless  your  heart ! 
Wen  at  last  we  wos  brought  into  his  majesty's 
presence,  he  were  a  boy  o'  twelve  !  '  How  d'  ye  do  ?' 
sez  he, '  an'  w'ere  d'  ye  come  from  ;  and  is  grown-up 
people  still  bosses  in  America?'  Then  he  went  on 
to  explain  the  whole  business.  The  Boyking  Islands 
wos  islands  w'ere  a  boy  were  allus  king,  an'  w'ere 
boys  wos  the  bosses,  an'  old  folks  had  to  mind  'em. 
'Yes,'  sez  King  Bucky  the  Seckind,  'we  boys  got 
tii*ed  o'  bein'  down-trodden  by  our  fathers  an'  moth- 
ers an'  uncles  an'  aunts,  so  we  riz  up  an'  took  pos- 
session o'  the  governmint,  an'  fur  sixty  year  we  bin 
a-runnin'  things  our  own  way.  The  king  are  elected 
out  o'  the  boys  seven  year  old,  an'  he  reigns  till  he 
are  fifteen.  Then  he  takes  the  position  o'  chief  o' 
police,  an'  holds  that  till  he  are  twenty  -  one,  arter 
w'ich  age  all  pussons  retire  from  the  public  service 
here.  As  soon  as  a  man  gits  married  he  has  to  go  to 
work  fur  the  governmint,  w'ich  allows  him  so  much 


116  SEA.   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

I 

land  an'  a  house.  As  soon  as  there  is  a  boy  born  in 
the  family,  the  father  an'  mother  does  all  their  work 
fur  him,  and  gives  the  governmint  six  per  cent,  fur 
taxes.' 

'"How  'bout  gals?'  sez  Cap'n  Silas. 

"'Oh,  gals  ain't  no  good!'  sez  King  Bucky  the 
Seckind,  jess  like  any  other  boy  o'  twelve.  'The 
police  seems  to  like  'em,  an'  they  is  good  fur  cookin' 
an'  mendin'  an'  bein'  people's  mothers  and  sich 
things ;  but  they  don't  count  in  these  here  islands. 
But  they  has  a  putty  good  time,  'cos  bein'  let  alone 
they  does  putty  much  ez  they  pleases.  They'd  look 
better,  though,  ef  they  had  teeth.' 

"'Wy,  'ain't  they  got  no  teeth?'  sez  Cap'n 
Silas. 

"  No,'  sez  the  king  ;  '  their  teeth  allus  turns  black 
an'  falls  out.  The  old  people  sez  it's  'cos  they  eats 
so  much  candy  ;  but  wot  growu-up  folks  sez  don't 
go  here.' 

"'But  I  should  think,'  sez  I,  'that  the  dentists 
would — ' 

" '  Dentists  !'  sez  the  king  ;  '  you  let  me  catch  a 
dentist  anywhere  on  these  'ere  islands  !  Dentists  is 
shot  on  sight,  my  friend.' 

"  'But  you  has  doctors,  don't  ye  ?" 

" '  Yep,'  sez  he  ;  'we  has  to  have  'em  fur  stomach- 
aches, w'ich  the  same  rages  werry  bad  in  these  isl- 
ands at  all  seasons  o'  the  year.  But  all  the  doctors 
has  to  be  homoeopathies  ;  an'  we  don't  allow  no 
lancin',  nor  blisterin',  nor  sich  things.' 


THE    BOYKING   ISLANDS  117 

" '  Wot  are  the  principal  manufacture  o'  these 
islands  o'  youi'n  '?'  sez  Cap'n  Silas. 

" '  Candy,'  sez  King  Bucky  the  Seckind. 

" '  Do  you  export  much  ?' 

"  *  Not  a  stick.  We  eats  it  all  ourselves.  But  you 
must  come  an'  see  the  royal  candy  factories  afore 
you  go.  They  are  run  by  the  governmint,  an'  are 
directed  by  the  princes  o'  the  royal  blood.' 

"'Then  I  s'pose  candy's  putty  high-priced?' 

"•'  Oh  no,'  sez  the  king  ;  '  candy's  werry  reason- 
able. The  price  is  fixed  by  law,  ye  see.  O'  course, 
it  wouldn't  do  to  let  it  be  dear,  'cos  w'y,  that  'd  make 
the  governmint  onpopular,  an'  then  there'd  be  plots 
to  try  an'  git  the  king  out  o'  power.  O'  course,  some- 
times the  people  does  git  a  little  restless,  but  we  allus 
fixes  that.' 

" '  How  ?'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I. 

"'W'y,  the  royal  family  gives  a  circus.' 

"  '  Oh,  do  you  keep  a  circus  ?' 

"  '  Keep  one  ?    No  ;  we  is  one.     See  here.' 

"  An'  the  king  he  got  down  off  the  throne,  an' 
did  a  row  o'  back  hand-springs,  windin'  up  with  a 
twistin'  somerset.  I  tell  you  he  were  jess  great 
at  it. 

" '  There,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he  ;  '  any  feller  wot 
can't  do  that  with  all  his  clothes  on  'ain't  got  no 
show  to  be  elected  king  o'  the  Boyking  Islands.' 

" '  I  bin  a-thinkin','  sez  Cap'n  Silas  to  him,  '  that 
you  can't  live  on  candy.  Don't  ye  have  somethin' 
else  to  eat  ?' 


118  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

" '  Oh  yes,'  sez  the  king  ;  '  there's  cake  an'  pie  an' 
plum-puddin',  an'  several  other  sich  things  as  them.' 

" '  Don't  ye  make  any  bread  ?'  sez  I. 

"  *  Sure,'  sez  the  king  ;  *  lots  o'  that.  Fathers  an' 
mothers  ain't  allowed  to  have  no  cake,  nor  candy, 
nor  pie,  except  at  Christmas.  They  has  to  eat 
bread  an'  b'iled  pertaters  an'  fried  fish  an'  things. 
Sometimes  they  gits  into  the  pantry  an'  steals  cake 
an'  jam,  an'  gits  spanked  an'  sent  to  bed  early.' 

" '  How  early  ?' 

"'Six  o'clock.  Their  reg'lar  bedtime  are  eight. 
No  grown-up  folks  is  allowed  to  sit  up  arter  that, 
'cos  they  has  to  git  up  an'  go  to  school.' 

" '  Oh,  does  they  go  to  school  ?' 

" '  O'  course.  Does  ye  think  we're  a  lot  o'  igno- 
ramuses here?  Everybody  has  to  go  to  school  wot's 
passed  the  age  o'  twenty-one.' 

" '  How  many  years  do  they  go  ?' 

"'Twenty  years.  Most  on  'em  don't  live  much 
longer  than  that.  Say,  you  want  to  understand 
that  we've  got  things  fixed  jess  right  here  fur  boys.' 

"'Are  the  grown-up  folks  allowed  to  vote?'  sez 
the  cap'n,  as  if  that  idee  jess  struck  him. 

"  '  No,  siree  !'  sez  the  king.  '  W'y,  they'd  be 
a-tryin'  to  upset  the  governmint.  Nobody  kin  vote 
wot's  passed  the  age  o'  twenty-one.' 

" '  But,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  '  I  don't  see  jess  how 
you  keep  'em  under.  They're  bigger  'n'  stronger.' 

"  '  Waal,'  sez  the  king  to  me,  sez  he, '  there's  twicet 
as  many  o'  us  as  there  is  o'  them,  an'  then  most  o' 


•  EVERYBODY   HAS  TO    GO    TO    SCHOOL  WOT'S    PASSED  THE   AGE    O*  TWENTY- 
^w  1 " 


THE    BOYKING   ISLANDS  119 

them  has  sich  poor  digestions  that  they  ain't  werry 
good  fur  much  at  all.  Sometimes  their  children 
brings  'em  to  the  circus  jess  to  try  an'  cheer  'em  up  a 
bit,  but  it  don't  seem  to.  Grown-up  folks  ain't  much 
good,  anyhow.  Boys  is  better.  Even  gals  is  better.' 

"  Waal,  you  may  be  sure  that  Cap'n  Silas  V  me 
was  doin'  a  good  deal  o'  thinkin'.  It  seemed  like  a 
downright  shame  to  us  that  all  them  fathers  an' 
mothers  was  a-workin',  an'  the  kids  havin'  all  the 
fun,  an'  at  the  same  time  a-ruinin'  their  innards 
with  candy  an'  pie  an'  sich.  I  said  somethin'  o'  the 
sort  to  the  king,  an'  he  laffed. 

"  *  Oh  yes,'  sez  he  ;  '  I  know  wot  you  think.  You 
ain't  the  fust  strangers  as  'a'  bin  here.  But  ain't  it 
all  square  ?  Byme-by  I'll  get  too  old  to  be  king,  an' 
I'll  git  to  be  growed  up  an'  married,  an'  my  boy  '11 
come  along  an'  have  all  the  fun  I  bin  a-havin'.  An' 
he'll  have  his  fun  w'en  he's  a  boy,  an'  fun  is  f un  ; 
not  w'en  he's  a  head  o'  a  family  an'  ain't  got  no 
time  to  have  fun,  an'  are  too  old  to  turn  hand-springs 
or  play  football.  This  'ere  kingdom  are  run  accord- 
in'  to  common-sense,  an'  all  the  other  countries  in 
the  world  is  dead  wrong.  We  knows  our  business, 
we  boys  does  ;  an'  we  means  fur  to  go  it  while 
we're  young,  'cos  w'en  we  gits  old  we  can't.' 

"  Waal,  nothin'  pertikler  occurrin'  to  Cap'n  Silas 
or  me,  we  kep'  our  mouths  shet.  But  jess  the  same 
it  didn't  seem  edzackly  a  square  deal  on  the  old 
folks.  So  that  night,  w'en  we  wos  aboard  the  ship 
agin,  we  talked  it  all  over,  an'  detarmined  that 


120  SEA   YAKNS   FOK   BOYS 

somethin'  ort  to  be  did  fur  to  rouse  up  the  grown- 
up folks  on  them  islands  to  strike  fur  liberty.  Cap'n 
Silas  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  Til  go  ashore  in  the 
mornin',  an'  talk  to  the  old  man  who  lives  down  by 
the  well  w'ere  we  gits  our  water.'  An'  me  bein'  mate 
an'  him  cap'n,  I  couldn't  say  nothin'  'ceptin'  'All 
right,'  w'ich  the  same  I  said,  jess  like  that.  The 
next  mornin',  sure  'nuff,  the  cap'n  did  go  an'  have 
a  talk  with  the  old  man,  but  he  come  back  in  about 
half  an  hour  a-shakin'  his  head.  '  It  ain't  no  sort  o' 
good,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he  ;  '  the  old  man  says  that 
the  boys  kin  lick  their  fathers  every  time.  The  fact 
o'  the  matter  is  that,  so  far  as  I  kin  see,  by  the  time 
these  people  git  growed  up  their  innards  is  so  de- 
structified  with  eatin'  candy  an'  cake  an'  pie  an'  sich 
truck  that  they  'ain't  got  no  strength  nor  no  courage.' 
"  Waal,  that  weren't  the  end  o'  't.  About  an  hour 
later  a  company  o'  boy  sodjers,  headed  by  a  drummer 
playin'  on  a  toy  drum  an'  a  ossifer  carryin'  a  tin 
sword,  an'  they  themselves  a-carryin'  little  wooden 
guns  with  tin  bar'ls,  come  a-marchin'  down  to  the 
shore.  The  ossifer  he  salutes,  an'  sez  he  to  Cap'n 
Silas,  sez  he, 'The  king  wants  to  see  you.'  So  off 
went  the  cap'n.  In  an  hour  he  come  back,  an'  he 
were  a-laffin'  'most  fit  to  bust  hisself .  '  Wot  d'  ye 
think  ?'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he.  '  I  don't  think  nothin' 
till  you  tells  me  wot  to  think,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  me 
bein'  mate  o'  the  ship  an'  him  cap'n.  '  Waal,'  sez 
he,  'some  one's  bin  an'  told  King  Bucky  the  Seckind 
that  I  bin  a-talkin'  treason  to  the  old  man,  an'  his 


THE    BOYKING    ISLANDS  121 

majesty's  give  us  three  hours  to  quit  the  islands.' 
'  Then,'  sez  I,  '  we'd  better  stand  by  to  slip  our 
cable.'  'Not  much!'  sez  he,  'but  I  guess  we'll 
heave  short  an'  be  ready  to  git  under  way  quick. 
There's  no  tellin'  wot  he'll  do.'  Waal,  sure  'nuff, 
we  didn't  go  at  the  time  we  wos  ordered  to,  an'  put- 
ty soon  we  heerd  a  tremenjous  beatin'  o'  toy  drums 
an'  blowin'  o'  toy  trumpets.  Down  comes  the  king 
at  the  head  o'  his  army  o'  boys — six  hundred  o'  'em, 
there  was — an'  they  opened  fire  on  us." 

"  With  what  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  With  toy  cannons  loaded  with  gravel  by  way  o' 
grape-shot ;  with  bow-guns  firin'  bolts  wot  had  pins 
stickin'  out  o'  the  ends  ;  with  blow-pipes  an'  bean- 
shooters  an'  sling-shots.  Say,  ef  ever  you  git  under 
fire  o'  three  hundred  bean  -  shooters  at  oncet  you'll 
wish  you'd  never  bin  born.  Cap'n  Silas  danced  an' 
hollered,  an'  the  sailors  danced  an'  hollered,  an' 
couldn't  man  the  capstan  -  bars.  So  I  slipped  the 
cable,  an'  let  the  old  hooker  drift  out  o'  the  channel 
starn  fust.  An'  we  made  sail  on  to  her,  an'  got  out  o' 
that  country  jess  as  quick  as  ever  we  knowed  how." 

"  And  you've  never  been  back  ?" 

"  That  are  the  queer  part  o'  't.  I  tried  to  go  back 
oncet,  an'  made  the  latitood  an'  longitood  right ;  but 
the  islands  wasn't  there  ;  an'  no  one's  ever  bin  able 
fur  to  find  'em  sence." 

And  the  Old  Sailor  looked  so  solemn  and  mys- 
terious that  the  boys  did  not  dare  to  ask  any  more 
questions. 


AN  ACKOBATIC  STEAMER 


» ES,  there  he  is,"  said  Henry. 
'  The  boys  had  gone  down  to  the  pier 
to  look  for  the  Old  Sailor.  It  was  Saturday,  and  as 
there  was  no  school  they  were  in  hopes  that  their 
old  friend  would  tell  them  a  yarn.  He  was  sitting 
in  his  favorite  place  at  the  end  of  the  pier,  gazing 
out  on  the  ocean.  The  boys  followed  the  direction 
of  his  gaze,  and  saw  a  two-masted  schooner-rigged 
steamer,  deeply  laden,  ploughing  her  way  southward 
at  a  slow  pace,  with  an  acre  of  foam  rising  almost  to 
her  hawse-pipes.  She  rolled  slowly  and  heavily  as 
she  went,  and  poured  an  oily  column  of  black  smoke 
from  her  single  fat  funnel. 


AN   ACROBATIC    STEAMER  123 

"  An'  wot  kind  o'  a  wessel  do  ye  think  that  are  ?" 
asked  the  Old  Sailor,  without  looking  around. 

"  A  steamer,  of  course,"  said  Henry. 

"An'  werry  good,  too,  so  fur  as  it  goes,"  respond- 
ed the  Old  Sailor,  indulging  in  one  of  his  silent 
laughs.  "  But  wot  kind  o'  a  steamer  ?" 

"  Looks  like  a  tramp,"  answered  George. 

"  That's  werry  good  indeed,"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 
"A  tramp  she  are  an'  a  tramp  she'll  be.  An'  she 
are  werry  much  like  another  tramp  wot  I  once 
kriowed,  only  she  are  summ'at  shorter  an'  consid'able 
more  by  the  head,  w'ich  the  same  tramps  often  is." 

"  Will  you  tell  us  about  the  tramp  you  knew  ?" 
asked  Henry. 

"That  are  the  werry  identical  thing  wot  I'm 
a-standin'  by  fur  to  do,"  said  the  Old  Sailor.  He 
took  another  careful  look  at  the  steamer,  and  then 
broke  out  thus  :  "  W'ich  the  same  ye  may  call  me  a 
marine  ef  it  warn't  in  the  year  afore  I  quit  the  sea 
an'  come  here  to  spend  the  rest  o'  my  nateral-born 
days  a-tellin'  you  boys  about  it.  I  shipped  as  sec- 
ond-mate on  to  the  tramp  steamer  Iron  Mary,  with 
a  cargo  o'  tin  cans,  goat-skins,  an'  rattlesnakes'  teeth 
fur  White's  Island." 

"  Why,  what  are  rattlesnakes'  teeth  good  for  ?" 
asked  George. 

"The  natyves  o'  that  island,"  answered  the  Old 
Sailor,  "  wear  them  an'  tin  cans  fur  ornaments,  an' 
goat-skins  fur  clothes,  an'  we  wos  to  exchange  our 
cargo  fur  White's  Island  oats,  w'ich  the  same  will 


124  SEA    YAENS   FOR   BOYS 

make  a  slow  boss  fast,  only  they  is  werry  hard  to 
get,  'cos  w'y,  the  natyves  won't  trade  'em  'ceptin'  in 
leap-year,  it  bein'  their  belief  that  oats  growed  in 
them  years  ain't  good.  We  got  under  way  from 
Noo  Yawk  on  a  werry  fine  mornin'  in  February,  an' 
passin'  the  Scotland  Light-ship  at  four  bells  in  the 
forenoon  watch,  laid  our  course  south  by  east.  The 
Iron  Mary  were  not  a  werry  fast  ship,  but  she  were 
a  werry  pertiklerly  fine-built  wessel.  She  war  built 
in  nine  water-tight  compartments,  with  slidin'  bulk- 
head doors,  so  that  if  she  got  into  a  collidgion  you 
could  shet  up  the  compartment  wot  were  busted 
an'  keep  the  water  from  goin'  into  any  other  part. 
Leastways,  that's  wot  ye  could  do  ef  the  doors 
worked  all  right,  w'ich  the  same  they  ginerally 
don't.  An'  that  were  the  cause  o'  this  'ere  yarn 
wot  I'm  a-tellin'  ye. 

"  We  had  good  weather  fur  several  days,  an'  got 
about  fifteen  hundred  mile  on  our  course.  Then  the 
byrometer  beginned  fur  to  go  down  slow  and  stiddy. 
It  kep'  a-goin'  down  fur  nigh  on  to  two  days,  an'  still 
the  weather  were  clear  an'  comf'table.  But  our  old 
man,  Cap'n  Waterbury  Boggs,  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he, 
'Ye  know  wot  the  poet  sez,  don't  ye?'  An'  I  al- 
lowed I  didn't  know  no  poets.  An'  sez  he  to  me,  sez 
he,  '  The  poet  sez,  "  Long  foretold,  long  last ;  short 
notice,  soon  past."  :  An'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  '  The 
poet  wot  said  that  were  a  seafarin'  pusson,'  jess  like 
that  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  him  bein'  the  cap'n  o'  the 
ship,  an'  me  the  second-mate.  I  hadn't  much  more'n 


AN    ACROBATIC    STEAMER  125 

got  the  words  out  o'  my  mouth  w'en  it  beginned  fur 
to  cloud  up,  an'  a  awful  swell  rolled  up  out  o'  the 
southeast.  The  Iron  Mary  she  rolled  so  that  ye 
couldn't  keep  your  feet,  an'  the  skipper  he  changed 
her. course,  so's  she'd  head  into  it.  At  three  bells  in 
the  evenin'  it  beginned  fur  to  blow,  an'  by  midnight 
it  were  a  howlin'  gale.  Afore  morn  in'  it  got  up  to 
a  hurricane,  an'  the  steamer  were  a-shippin'  water 
till  I  thort  her  decks  'd  be  clean  stove  in.  The 
cap'n  he  ordered  us  to  put  ile  in  the  drain-pipes, 
an'  so  we  soon  stopped  the  breakin'  o'  the  seas,  an' 
rode  better,  only  the  pitchin'  were  somethin'  simply 
ridikalous. 

"  We  lay  to  with  the  ingin'  jess  a-turnin'  over  all 
that  day,  an'  as  it  didn't  let  up  a  single  bit  we  made 
ready  fur  another  rough  night.  Toward  sundown, 
to  make  things  wuss,  a  measly  drivin'  mist  set  in, 
an'  you  couldn't  see  the  end  o'  your  own  nose,  no 
matter  how  cross-eyed  ye  looked.  The  mist  lasted 
all  night,  an'  were  there  w'en  I  turned  out  to  take 
the  forenoon  watch  the  next  day.  I  hadn't  much 
more'n  got  on  deck  w'en  I  were  shook  up  by  a  loud 
shout  from  forrard.  I  jumped  out  on  the  fo'c'sle- 
deck,  an'  one  o'  the  hands  yelled  :  'A  waterlogged 
wreck  !  Driftin'  right  on  to  us  !'  It  were  a  capsized 
schooner,  an'  afore  it  were  possible  fur  us  to  do  any- 
thin'  at  all  it  came  tumblin'  down  the  side  o'  a  roar- 
in'  mountain  o'  water  jess  as  we  plunged  down  off 
another.  Crash  !  Our  forefoot  came  down  on  top 
o'  the  wreck.  I  heerd  a  great  scrapin'  an'  bangin' 


126  SEA   YARNS   FOE   BOYS 

as  the  schooner  drifted  out  from  under  us,  an'  the 
next  second  some  men  come  tumblin'  up  the  fore- 
hatch,  cryin' :  'The  water  !  It's  a-comin'  in  by  the 
ton !'  '  Close  the  bulkhead  doors  in  the  forrard 
bulkhead  !'  I  yelled.  The  hands  jumped  below,  an' 
in  a  minnit  comes  back  an'  sez, '  They're  fouled,  an' 
won't  shet.'  '  Close  'em  in  the  second  bulkhead  !' 
I  hollered.  'It's  done  !' they  sez.  By  this  time  the 
cap'n  were  on  deck,  an'  ordered  all  the  boats  cleared 
ready  fur  lowerin'.  'No  boat  '11  live  in  that  sea, 
sir,'  sez  Isaac  Hooper,  the  fust-mate.  'No  more  it 
will,'  sez  the  cap'n.  '  So  we  must  try  to  keep  the 
steamer  afloat  till  the  gale  moderates.  I'll  go  b'low 
myself  an'  see  how  things  is  a-goin'.'  The  cap'n 
went  b'low,  an'  the  rest  o'  us  stood  an'  looked  at 
each  other.  All  on  a  suddent  Isaac  Hooper,  the  fust- 
mate,  he  looks  werry  piculiar  at  me,  an'  sez  he  to 
me,  sez  he, 

" '  It  are  my  opinion  that  this  'ere  wessel  are 
a-settlin'  by  the  head.' 

" c  W'ich  the  same,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  ''is  also  the 
opinion  o'  yourn  truly.' 

"The  next  minnit  the  cap'n  comes  a-runnin'  on 
deck,  an'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he  : 

" '  We're  a-goner.  The  water  are  ten  foot  deep  in 
the  forrard  compartment,  an'  are  almost  the  same  in 
the  second.  She'll  go  down  head-fust  in  about  ten 
minnits.' 

" '  I  don't  b'lieve  she'll  sink  at  all,'  sez  Isaac 
Hooper  to  him,  sez  he. 


AN   ACROBATIC   STEAMER  127 

"  *  Wot  fur  won't  she  ?'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"  '  'Cos  them  two  compartments  won't  hold  'nuff 
water  fur  to  drag  her  down.' 

"  'But  they'll  hold  'nuff  fur  to  pull  her  head  under, 
an'  then  these  'ere  seas  a-breakin'  on  to  her  '11  send 
her  down,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I. 

"  Howsumever,  'tain't  no  use  o'  tellin'  ye  wot  we 
all  said,  'cos  w'y,  none  on  us  didn't  know  nothin' 
about  wot  were  a-goin'  fur  to  happen.  An'  how 
could  we,  seein'  that  nothin'  o'  the  sort  ever  hap- 
pened afore,  an'  ain't  werry,exceedin'  likely  fur  to 
happen  agin." 

"  What  did  happen  ?"  asked  Henry,  eagerly. 

"Jess  you  hold  your  breath,"  said  the  Old  Sailor, 
"  an'  I'll  tell  you.  The  steamer's  head  kep'  a-settlin' 
an'  a-settlin'  till  all  on  a  suddent  her  starn  riz  out  o' 
water,  an'  the  screw  whizzed  around  in  the  air  like  a 
buzz-saw.  The  deck  were  now  a-slantin'  from  starn 
to  stem  so  that  ye  couldn't  stand  up  on  to  it,  an'  all 
hands  was  a-hangin'  on  to  the  riggin'  or  life-lines, 
and  putty  nigh  skeert  to  death.  Now  the  ingineer 
an'  all  his  hands  come  on  deck. 

"  '  Cap'n,'  sez  the  ingineer,  '  the  screw  are  up  in 
the  air,  an'  we  can't  stand  up  b'low,  an'  we  ain't  no 
more  pertik'ler  good  nohow,  so,  ef  you  please,  we'd 
like  a  chance  fur  our  lives.' 

" '  Help  yourselves,'  sez  the  cap'n,  werry  sour- 
caustic. 

"  The  ingineer  he  looks  around,  an'  he  sees  right 
away  that  ye  couldn't  'a'  lowered  a  boat  nohow,  'cos 


128  SEA    YARNS   FOK   BOYS 

w'y,  the  way  we  was  a-ridin'  they  was  all  jammed 
agV  the  forrard  davies.  All  the  time  the  ship's 
head  were  a-settlin'  more  an'  more,  an'  the  slant  o' 
the  deck  were  a-gettin'  steeper  an'  steeper.  The 
steamer  she  swung  round  so  that  her  starn  were 
facin'  the  seas,  an'  that  settled  it." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused  for  a  moment,  and  while 
the  boys  were  regarding  him  with  breathless  inter- 
est he  indulged  in  a  silent  laugh,  after  which  he 
continued  thus : 

"  Blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  'tain't  puffickly  silly 
w'en  I  comes  fur  to  think  on  't  now.  Wot  d'  ye 
think  happened  ?" 

"  What  ?"  cried  both  boys. 

"  W'y,  a  tremenjous  sea  rolled  up  under  her 
starn,  heavin'  it  so  high  into  the  air  that  the 
Iron  Mary  jess  stood  on  her  head.  An'  there  she 
stopped.  We  all  looked  at  each  other,  but  no  one 
opened  a  mouth  till  the  cap'n  said, 

" '  Waal,  we  can't  hang  on  here  in  this  fashion, 
so  let's  all  go  b'low  an'  consider  wot  are  to  be  did.' 

"So  we  climbed  up  to  the  cabin  companion-way 
an'  fell  down  into  the  cabin,  where  we  fetched  up 
on  the  forrard  bulkhead  among  a  permiskyous  pile 
o'  furniture  an'  things.  The  cap'n  he  looks  into 
his  state-room,  an'  sez  he,  werry  solemnlike, 

"  '  I  got  to  1'arn  to  sleep  standin'  up,  I  reckon.' 

"  'Waal,'  sez  Bill  Martin,  an  able  seaman,  'I  got 
to  1'arn  to  sleep  under  water  ef  I  go  to  my  bunk  to- 
night.' 


AN   ACROBATIC    STEAMER  129 

"The  cap'n  lie  laffed,  an'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he, 
'  I'm  a-thinkin'  this  'ere  gale  '11  break  afore  to-mor- 
rer,  an'  then  we  got  to  see  what  kin  be  did.' 

"  '  We  kin  git  some  o'  them  boats  away  in  quiet 
weather,'  sez  Isaac  Hooper. 

" '  I  think  we  kin  do  better  nor  that,'  sez  the 
cap'n;  'ef  we  kin  find  some  way  to  stop  up  the 
hole  in  the  bow.' 

"  '  I  think  it  kin  be  managed,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I. 
'  There  are  a  diver's  outfit  aboard,  an'  as  I've  had 
some  experience  in  that  kind  o'  work,  suppose  I  go 
down  an'  take  a  look  at  the  hole.' 

"  'Bully  !'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"'You'll  have  to  go  down  on  the  outside,'  sez 
Isaac  Hooper,  '  'cos  w'y,  ef  ye  go  down  to  open  the 
doors  to  let  you  down  inside  the  water  '11  come 
through  an'  the  ship  '11  sink.' 

"  So  it  were  decided  that  as  soon  as  the  weather 
got  still  I  should  make  the  trip.  It  beginned  fur 
to  moderate  that  night,  an'  the  nex'  day  the  ingi- 
neer  went  to  work  to  rig  the  air-pump  to  keep  me  in 
breath.  Waal,  it  were  simply  dreadful  a-tryin'  to 
do  any  thin'  aboard  a  ship  wot  were  standin'  on  her 
head,  an'  dancin'  slowly  up  an'  down  over  the  swells. 
But  arter  a  good  deal  o'  hard  work  an'  a  awful  sight  o' 
talk,  the  ingineer  got  the  pump  set  up  on  a  bulkhead. 
Meantime  the  crew  lowered  Bill  Martin  an'  me  into 
the  after-hold,  w'ere  the  divin'  rig  were.  Waal,  ye 
never  see  such  a  tangle  o'  things  in  the  whole  course 
o'your  life.  There  wos  tin  cans,  rattlesnakes'  teeth, 

9 


130  SEA   YARNS    FOE    BOYS 

goat-skins,  ropes,  old  iron,  boxes,  bags,  blocks,  an'  all 
sorts  o'  riffraff  piled  up  in  the  worst  kind  o'  confu- 
sion wot  ever  was  knowed  sence  the  destruction  o' 
Sodom  an'  Tomorrah. 

"Howsumever,  Bill  an'  me  managed  to  find  the 
divin'  rig,  an'  to  git  back  into  the  cabin  with  't. 
The  followin'  day  the  sea  were  quite  calm,  an'  the 
long  easy  swells  didn't  interfere  none  with  our  plan. 
The  pumps  wos  started,  an'  I  climbed  out  o'  the 
main  hatch,  w'ich  were  jess  out  o'  water,  an',  shet 
up  in  the  divin'  suit,  I  felt  my  way  forrard  —  or 
ruther  down'ard — to  the  ship's  bow.  I  climbed 
over,  an'  worked  my  way  around  underneath  till  I 
got  to  the  hole.  It  were  about  five  feet  in  diameter 
an'  putty  near  round.  I  shook  my  head,  an'  pulled 
the  string  fur  'em  to  take  me  back.  Wen  I  got 
into  the  ship  agin  I  sez  to  the  cap'n,  sez  I,  'I  don't 
b'lieve  we  kin  do  much  with  that  hole.'  But  he  sez 
to  me,  sez  he,  'W'y,  it  ain't  no  crater  o'  Mount 
Vesoovus,  wot  blows  things  out  as  fast  as  ye  put 
'em  in,  is't  ?  Now,  you  jess  go  down  agin  an'  pass 
this  'ere  line  under  the  ship.  We  kin  haul  a  big 
main-sail  under  an'  plug  up  the  hole  with  that.' 

"Waal,  I  didn'  think  the  skipper's  scheme  would 
work,  but  my  business  were  to  do  wot  he  sez.  So  I  tuk 
the  line,  an'  down  I  went  agin.  Wotever  indooced 
me  fur  to  luk  around  while  I  were  under  the  ship's 
bow  I  don't  know,  but  I  did,  an'  I  were  not  pertik- 
lerly  pleased  w'en  I  sees  a  shark  a-risin'.  He  were 
a-comin'  straight  at  me  from  b'low,  an'  I  tell  ye  I 


AN   ACROBATIC    STEAMER  131 

yanked  that  string  so  quick  an'  hard  it  were  a  wonder 
I  didn't  bust  it.  I  were  right  in  front  o'  the  hole  at 
the  time,  an'  the  shark  comin'  up  head  on  like  a  gray 
streak  o'  lightnin'.  Jess  in  time  the  hoistin'-rope 
pulled  taut,  I  swung  myself  away  from  the  hole,  an' 
as  I  went  up  the  ship's  side  wot  d'  ye  think  I  see  ?" 

"  What  ?"  cried  the  boys. 

"  The  bloomin'  shark  went  head  -  fust  into  the 
hole,  an'  there  he  stuck.  He  lashed  his  tale  about 
an'  struggled,  but  it  didn'  do  no  good ;  'cos  w'y, 
them  bent-in  plates  had  'im  by  the  neck,  an'  he  were 
caught.  I  reported  this  'ere  remarkable  condition 
o'  things  to  the  skipper,  an'  sez  he  to  we  all, 

'"By  the  great  horn  spoon,  boys,  our  leak  are 
stopped  for  us  by  old  Neptune  hisself.' 

"Howsumever,  he  sent  me  down  once  more  to  see 
ef  the  shark  were  still  fast,  an'  ef  he  quite  filled  up 
the  hole.  I  found  that  he  did,  an'  I  reported  so  to 
Cap'n  Waterbury  Boggs.  So  he  gives  orders  right 
away  to  rig  the  after  steam-pumps,  an'  screw  on  a 
line  o'  hose  to  the  pipe  wot  runned  through  the 
bulkhead  from  the  second  compartment  to  the 
third.  It  were  a  good  six  hours  afore  this  work 
were  done,  'cos  w'y,  everythin'  had  to  be  did  at 
right  angles  to  its  proper  persition.  Howsumever, 
it  did  get  finished,  an'  then  it  were  night  an'  we  had 
to  stop.  We  turned  out  'arly  in  the  mornin'  an' 
started  up  the  pumps.  The  water  came  through  the 
hose  in  great  style,  an'  we  got  quite  jolly  a-squirtin' 
it  out  o'  the  cabin  ports. 


132 

"Waal,  o'  course  we  was  all  so  bloomin'  stoopid 
that  we  forgot  to  prepare  fur  wot  were  bound  to  hap- 
pen. Wen  the  water  got  low  enough  in  them  two 
forrard  compartments,  bang !  down  came  the  ship's 
starn  into  the  water  with  a  smash,  an'  she  war  a- 
ridin'  on  her  keel  agin.  An'  there  we  was  with  the 
steam -pumps  screwed  up  on  the  side  o'  one  o'  the 
compartments,  an'  the  donkey-engine,  too,  so  that  the 
live  coals  come  a-tumblin'  out  an'  putty  near  sot  the 
ship  afire,  not  to  speak  o'  us  all  bein'  throwed  heels 
over  head  w'en  the  starn  dropped.  Howsumever, 
we  wasn't  badly  hurt,  an'  we  got  them  live  coals  out 
putty  quick.  But  we  had  a  sweet  job  gettin'  that 
donkey-engine  down  from  w'ere  it  were  hung  up  like 
a  picter  on  the  wall.  An'  then  it  took  us  nigh  on  to 
five  days  to  get  the  cargo  to  rights  agin.  Howsum- 
ever, we  done  it,  an'  then  the  cap'n  headed  the  ship 
fur  Rio,  w'ich  were  the  nearest  port,  for  repairs." 

"  And  what  became  of  the  shark  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Oh,  he  stayed  right  there  in  the  hole  till  he  were 
pulled  out  by  a  powerful  tackle  in  Rio  Harbor. 
An'  then  he  kind  o'  lay  around  like  dead  for  a 
couple  o'  hours,  arter  w'ich  he  shook  hisself  an' 
swam  around  the  ship  fur  a  week,  till  Isaac  Hooper, 
w'ich  the  same  he  were  fond  o'  his  joke,  sez  he  to 
me,  sez  he,  'I  b'lieve  that  there  shark  are  a-waitin' 
fur  to  put  in  his  bill  for  salwage,'  sez  he  to  me,  jess 
like  that,  him  bein'  fust-mate  an'  me  second." 

And  the  Old  Sailor  indulged  in  another  of  his 
quaint,  silent  laughs. 


THE  NORTH  POLE  DISCOVEEED 

IT  was  one  of  those  beautiful  mild  mornings  of 
which  there  are  so  many  in  the  course  of  the  win- 
ter. A  moderately  brisk  wind  was  blowing  off 
shore,  and  the  Old  Sailor  was  sitting  in  his  favor- 
ite place  at  the  end  of  the  pier,  gazing  out  over  the 
ocean.  There  was  not  a  whitecap  in  sight,  but  the 
vessels  which  were  passing  were  going  at  a  fine 
rate  of  speed.  The  two  boys  were  standing  at  the 
inshore  end  of  the  pier  for  some  time  before  they 
noticed  that  the  Old  Sailor  was  there.  When  they 
saw  him  they  felt  sure  that  he  must  be  looking  at 
some  vessel  which  would  remind  him  of  one  of  his 
numerous  experiences  at  sea.  So  they  ran  down 
the  pier  and  greeted  him  with  a  cheery  "Good- 
morning."  As  usual,  without  turning  his  head,  or 
appearing  to  be  aware  of  the  fact  that  they  were 
near  him,  the  Old  Sailor  indulged  in  one  of  his 
quiet  laughs,  and  said,  "Waal,  and  how's  the  wind 
this  morn  in'?" 

"I  think,"  said  Henry,  "that  it's  pretty  nearly 
due  west." 

"Werry  good,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  "an*  it  are 
just  about  that,  w'ich  the  same  it  are  a  werry  good 


134  SEA   YARNS   FOB   BOYS 

wind  for  eny  wessel  wot's  goin'  down  this  'ere 
coast." 

He  relapsed  into  silence,  and  continued  to  stare 
out  on  the  ocean.  The  boys  watched  him  for  a 
few  moments,  and  finally  little  George,  who  could 
not  restrain  his  impatience,  said,  "We  thought  may- 
be you  might  see  something  that  would  remind  you 
of  something." 

"  W'ich  the  same  I  do,"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 

"  Then  maybe  you  wouldn't  mind  telling  us  what 
it  is  ?" 

"  W'ich  the  same  I  also  would  not,"  answered  the 
Old  Sailor.  "Mebbe  if  you  wos  to  look  the  right 
way  you  might  see  a  ship  somethin'  oncommon." 

Both  boys  looked  around  the  circle  of  blue  water 
that  spread  before  them,  and  cried  out  at  once,  "I 
see  it !" 

The  Old  Sailor  indulged  in  another  of  his  hearty 
but  silent  laughs,  and  then  said>  "Wot  are  it?" 

"It  is  a  full -rigged  ship,"  said  Henry,  "with 
high  top  sides,  top-gallant  poop  and  forecastle,  tum- 
bling-home sides,  and  a  white  stripe  with  false  ports 
painted  in.  Her  flying-jib-boom  is  sprung,  and  has 
a  bend  in  it  like  our  school-teacher's  nose.  She 
has  old-fashioned  single  top-sails,  and  her  spanker 
has  three  new  cloths  in  it.  She  is  bound  south, 
about  four  miles  off  shore,  and  is  doing  about  seven 
knots  an  hour." 

The  Old  Sailor,  for  the  first  time,  turned  his  head, 
and  stared  at  Henry  with  an  expression  of  admiration. 


THE    NORTH    POLE    DISCOVERED  135 

"  Waal,  my  young  friend,  you'll  be  a  bloomin' 
sailor  afore  your  mother ;  but  durin'  the  course  o' 
my  life  I  seen  a  good  many  fellers  wot  could  stan' 
on  a  beach  an'  talk  salt,  w'ich  the  same  on  board 
ship  couldn't  tell  a  marlin'-spike  from  a  slush-bucket. 
Howsumever,  I  s'pose  it  are  no  more  than  wot's  to 
be  expected  after  hearin'  so  many  yarns.  Waal, 
that  is  the  werry  ship  wot  I  were  lookin'  at,  an'  she 
reminds  me  o'  a  woyage  wot  I  took  about  thirty 
years  ago,  w'ich  the  same  time  I  got  into  werry 
high  latitoods.  Fact  is,  there  ain't  no  higher  lati- 
toods  than  wot  I  got  to." 

"Latitude  ends  at  the  north  pole,  doesn't  it?" 
asked  Henry. 

"  Waal,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  ignoring  the  ques- 
tion, "blow  me  for  pickles  if  this  ain't  the  werry 
way  wot  it  happened.  I  were  shipped  as  second- 
mate  on  to  a  wessel  called  the  Skimmed  Milk,  which 
the  same  she  were  the  identical  picter  of  that  wes- 
sel wot  you  see  out  yonder.  This  'ere  Skimmed 
Milk  were  a  sort  o'  a  whaler  an'  trader  mixed.  I 
s'pose  they  called  her  Skimmed  Milk  'cos  she  were 
such  bloomin'  poor  quality.  Her  business  were  to 
run  up  the  west  coast  of  Greenland,  w'ere  she  killed 
whales  w'en  she  saw  whales,  caught  seals  w'en 
there  were  any,  an'  traded  with  the  Eskimos  for  all 
kinds  of  truck  w'en  there  were  nothin'  else  to  do. 
I  shipped  on  to  her,  'cos  havin'  been  up  north  oncet 
I  were  liable  to  git  the  artic  fever  oncet  in  a  while. 
Everybody  does  wot's  ever  been  up  there  oncet.  The 


136  SEA   YARNS   FOK,   BOYS 

pertiklers  of  our  woyage  north  ain't  no  sort  of  con- 
sekence,  so  I'll  just  jump  over  all  wot  happened  till 
we  got  'way  up  near  the  north  end  of  Smith  Sound. 
We'd  got  a  few  whales  an'  seals,  an'  done  a  good 
deal  of  tradin',  an'  the  captain  were  thinkin'  o' 
turnin'  his  head  south  ;  but,  bless  your  heart,  one 
of  the  howlin'est  gales  wot  ever  blowed  just  bust 
right  out  o'  the  south.  Pack  ice  and  floes  come 
tumblin'  up  with  it,  an'  there  wa'n't  nothin'  for  us 
to  do  'ceptin'  to  turn  tail  an'  run  for  the  north'ard. 
We  ran  fur  two  days  an'  two  nights,  an'  then,  while 
it  were  my  watch  below,  smash -bang!  the  ship 
went  plum  into  a  iceberg.  I  were  out  o'  my  bunk 
an'  on  deck  just  in  time  to  tumble  into  a  boat  an' 
git  away  from  the  ship's  side,  w'en  she  rolled  over 
like  a  dog  goin'  to  sleep  an'  went  down.  There  wos 
six  men  in  that  boat  besides  me,  an'  we  drifted  fur 
three  days.  At  the  end  o'  that  time,  not  wishing 
to  make  you  feel  bad,  I  will  say,  fur  short,  that 
there  were  only  one  man  in  that  boat,  an'  he  were 
me.  I  tried  to  git  to  the  south,  but  it  war  not  no 
good;  so,  seein'  open  water  to  the  north'ard,  I  let 
the  boat  go  that  way,  hopin'  as  how  I  might  find 
a  Eskimo  willage  somew'ere  or  other,  an'  git  dogs 
an'  a  sled  to  take  me  south  to  a  settlement.  I  kep' 
on  goin'  north  for  about  five  days,  an'  then  the  ice 
shut  in  all  around  me,  an'  the  fust  thing  I  knowed 
my  boat  got  nipped  an'  were  smashed  into  kindlin' 
wood.  So  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  'There  bein'  no 
water  'ceptin'  ice,  an'  no  boat  'ceptin'  splinters,  I 


THE    NORTH   POLE    DISCOVERED  137 

reckon  as  how  I  got  to  git  out  an'  walk,  w'ich  the 
same  it  would  be  better  for  skatin'.'  Now,  if  I  could 
'a'  seen  any  shore  somew'ere  I  s'pose  I  would  'a' 
gone  ashore,  but  w'ichever  way  I  looked  I  couldn't 
see  nothin'  'cept  ice.  There  were  a  good  deal 
more  ice  nor  I  wanted ;  'cos  w'y,  such  perwisions 
as  I  had  would  'a'  kep'  jess  as  well  without  it.  So 
I  started  ahead,  or  prehaps  I  ought  to  say  afoot, 
not  knowin'  werry  well  w'ich  way  I  were  goin'.  It 
turned  out  arterwards  that  I  were  goin'  north  all 
the  time.  I  s'pose  I  needn't  tell  ye  that  the  weath- 
er were  putty  consid'able  cool,  so  I  kep'  movin' 
putty  rapid  fur  to  keep  my  blood  warm.  I  camped 
out  on  the  ice  the  fust  night,  an'  woke  up  in  the 
mornin'  so  stiff  that  I  almost  cracked  when  I  tried 
to  git  up.  When  I  finally  did  git  up,  wot  do  you 
s'pose  I  saw  ?" 

"What?"  asked  both  boys. 

"  Why,  I  were  afloat  on  a  big  ice-floe  'bout  a  hun- 
dred yards  square,  an'  there  were  water  all  around 
me.  '  Waal,'  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  '  I  was  oncet 
afloat  on  a  iceberg,  but  it  were  bound  south,  an'  I 
don't  know  wot  way  this  'ere  floe  is  agoin';  how- 
sumever,  it  don't  make  no  difference  wot  way  it 
are  goin',  'cos  I  can't  go  no  other.'  'Long  towards 
night  all  kinds  of  birds  lit  on  my  floe,  an'  some  of 
'em  lit  on  me.  I  druv  'em  away,  'cos  w'y>  I  kin 
stan'  a  good  deal,  but  I'm  blowed  if  I'll  be  a  chicken- 
coop  fur  snipe.  The  nex'  mornin'  w'en  I  woke  up, 
an'  got  the  stiffness  out  o'  my  joints,  I  took  a  look 


138  SEA   YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

around.  I  were  still  at  sea,  as  you  might  say,  an' 
'peared  likely  to  stay  there.  An'  wot  do  you  s'pose 
I  found  sittin'  on  my  floe  ?" 

"  I  can't  imagine,"  said  Henry. 

"  A  bloomin'  big  seal,"  said  the  Old  Sailor,  "  w'ich 
the  same,  w'en  I  looked  at  him,  he  wunk  one  eye 
at  me,  an'  wagged  one  of  his  flippers.  Then  he  puts 
his  head  down  on  the  ice,  an'  begins  to  cry  like  a 
baby.  Nex'  he  sits  up  on  his  tail,  hoists  his  head 
up  into  the  air,  an'  makes  a  melancholic  noise  with 
his  mouth  like  he  thought  he  were  a  bloomin'  opera- 
singer.  Sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  'That  there  seal  are 
crazy.'  Putty  soon  the  seal  commenced  crawlin' 
towards  me.  I  didn't  like  the  way  he  were  actin', 
so  I  backed  off.  The  more  I  backed  off  the  more 
he  come  on.  So  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  '  It  are  got 
to  be  a  game  of  tag  between  me  an'  this  'ere  fish.' 
Sure  enough,  that's  wot  it  were,  'cos  he  chased  me 
around  that  there  floe  fur  about  two  hours,  till  I 
got  so  bloomin'  tired  I  couldn't  stand  up  no  more. 
So,  seem'  as  how  .1  couldn't  stand  up,  I  fell  down, 
an'  then  that  there  measly  seal  come  wobblin'  along 
the  ice  an'  gave  me  a  boost  with  his  nose  an'  shoved 
me  right  into  the  water.  Great  guns !  but  it  were 
cold.  O'  course  I  went  down,  an'  w'en  I  came  up 
the  seal  were  alongside  o'  me.  Fust  thing  I  knowed 
he  dived  down  under  me,  an'  come  up  so  I  was  sit- 
tin' astraddle  o'  his  back.  Just  as  soon  as  he  found 
me  there  he  started  off  across  the  sea  at  a  ten-knot 
gait.  O'  course  there  were  nothing  left  for  me  to 


"  '  SOME    OF    *KM    LIT    OS    ME  '  " 


THE   NORTH    POLE    DISCOVERED  139 

do  but  to  hang  on.  I  couldn't  see  nothin'  at  all 
'ceptin'  white  spray,  wot  flew  around  me  like  a 
cloud  of  smoke.  Byme-by  I  got  sort  o'  dizzy,  an' 
all  I  could  do  wos  to  shut  my  eyes  an'  try  to  stick 
on  the  seal's  back,  'cos  ef  I  fell  off  I'd  git  drownded. 
Well,  how  long  we  kep'  agoin'  I  don't  know.  All 
I  know  is  that  after  a  while  we  fetched  up  all  on  a 
suddent — that  is  to  say,  the  seal  did.  He  stopped, 
an'  I  went  sailin'  up'ards  into  the  air,  an'  lit  on  my 
back  on  dry  land.  I  wei-e  stunned  for  a  minute, 
but  I  were  woke  up  by  a  voice  sayin'  to  me,  '  Well, 
who  in  thunder  are  you?' 

"  I  looked  up,  an'  saw  a  feller  sittin'  on  a  rock 
smokin'  a  pipe.  He  were  not  putty  to  look  at.  He 
had  a  sort  o'  pale  greenish-yaller  hair,  an'  whiskers 
o'  a  similar  constitootion  wot  stuck  out  all  round 
his  face  like  the  whiskers  on  a  jack-in-the-box.  His 
nose  had  been  broken,  an'  one  o'  his  eyes  had  a  droop 
to  it  like  a  flag  w'en  there  ain't  no  wind.  Soon  as 
I  could  git  my  breath  I  answered  him,  an'  sez  I  to 
him,  sez  I, 

" '  I'm  the  second  -  mate  .  o'  the  ship  Skimmed 
Milk: 

"  '  Wot !'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he  ;  'are  there  a  ship 
up  here?' 

"  '  No,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I ;  '  she  are  down  there,' 
w'ich  the  same  I  pointed  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

"  '  Oh  !'  sez  he  to  me,  '  I  feel  better.  I  don't  want 
nobody  comin'  up  here  to  steal  my  pole.' 

" '  Wot  pole  ?'  sez  I. 


140  SEA   YAKNS   FOB   BOYS 

" 'The  one  up  yonder,'  sez  he. 

"I  looked  w'ere  he  pointed,  an'  saw  a  tall  flag- 
staff with  the  English  flag  flying  on  it.  I  didn't  see 
no  reason  w'y  any  one  should  want  to  steal  that  pole. 
But  not  wishin'  to  be  disagreeable,  I  sez  to  him. : 

" '  There  ain't  nobody  comin'  but  me,  an'  I  would- 
n't 'a'  come  if  I  could  'a'  helped  it ;  but  that  there 
bloomin'  seal,  after  doin'  some  circus  tricks,  shoved 
me  into  the  water,  dropped  me  on  his  back,  an' 
brung  me  here  whether  I  wanted  to  be  brung  or 
not.  That  are  the  most  perticklerest  seal  I  ever 
saw.' 

"  '  Oh,'  sez  he,  laughin', '  that  are  my  trained  seal.' 

"  '  Did  you  train  him  yourself  ?' 

"  '  No,'  sez  he.  '  He  were  a  trained  seal  in  a 
American  circus.  He  were  bein'  took  to  London 
with  the  show,  an'  he  were  kep'  in  a  tank  on  deck. 
One  day  in  a  gale  a  big  sea  come  aboard  the  ship 
an'  washed  him.  overboard.  The  minute  he  struck 
the  ocean  he  made  a  bee-line  for  his  own  home  up 
near  Lady  Franklin  Bay.' 

"  'Were  did  you  git  him?' 

"  '  I  ran  acrost  him  in  that  bay  on  my  way  up 
here,  an'  I  knowed  him  by  his  tricks,  'cos  I'd  seen 
him  in  the  show  in  New  York.  He  are  a  werry 
useful  animal,  are  that  seal,  an'  anythin'  wot  he  finds 
adrift  he  brings  right  in  to  me.' 

"  'You  'ain't  told  me  who  you  wos  yet.' 

"'Oh,'  sez  the  man,  'I'm  just  a  plain  every -day 
sailor-man  like  yourself.' 


THE   NORTH    POLE    DISCOVERED  141 

"  '  How  did  you  git  here  ?' 

"  *  That's  wot  I  don't  tell,'  sez  he,  lookin'  werry 
cunnin'. 

" '  An'  do  you  live  here  ?' 

" '  Yes,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  I  live  here  all  the 
year  round,  right  on  this  little  island;  an'  mind  you, 
it  ain't  near  so  bad  as  you  might  think.  It  are  not 
near  so  cold  as  it  are  five  hundred  miles  further 
south,  an'  the  fishin'  an'  shootin'  is  bully.' 

"'Still,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  'I  don't  see  w'y  you 
stay  here.' 

"  '  Oh,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he, c I  don't  dare  go  away.' 

"  '  W'y  not  ?'  sez  I. 

'"'Cos,'  sez  he,  'if  I  did,  somebody  would  come 
an'  steal  my  pole.' 

"  '  W'y,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  '  I  don't  see  nothin' 
wonderful  about  that  there  pole.  Wot  for  should 
anybody  want  to  steal  it  ?' 

"'W'y,  blow  me!'  sez  he;  'that  are  the  north 
pole.' 

"  '  Waal,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I, '  you  don't  expect  an 
old  sailor  like  me  to  b'lieve  that  the  pole  are  really  a 
stick  stickin'  up  out  o'  the  end  o'  the  earth,  do  you  ?' 

" '  Oh  no,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  laughin' ;  '  that 
stick  ain't  the  pole.  That's  a  stick  I  stuck  into  the 
spot  w'ere  the  pole  is  so  as  to  h'ist  the  English 
flag  over  it,  an'  claim  the  discovery  in  her  majesty's 
name.' 

"'Waal,  now  that  you've  discovered  it,'  sez  I, 
'  w'y  don't  you  go  home  an'  tell  about  it  ?' 


142  SEA    YARNS    FOE    BOYS 

"  '  How  kin  I  ?'  sez  he.  *  Soon  as  I  go  away  some 
other  feller  like  you  will  come  up  here  and  steal  the 
north  pole  from  me.' 

"'W'y,'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  'if  you  wos  gone 
an'  I  were  here  alone,  I  wouldn't  be  a  bit  better  off 
than  you  wos  afore  I  come.' 

'"That's  all  right,'  sez  he;  'but  how  were  I  to 
know  that  a  whole  boatload  of  men  wouldn't  come 
here  some  day  an'  find  this  pole?' 

"  '  Then  wot  are  you  goin'  to  do  ?' 

" '  I'm  goin'  to  stay  right  here,  hold  on  to  this 
pole,  an'  keep  the  English  flag  a-flyin'  over  it  till 
somebody  comes  an'  finds  me  here.' 

"'Waal,'  sez  I,  'it  seems  to  me  that  somebody 
has  come  an'  found  you  here.' 

"  '  An'  will  you  play  square  an'  go  back  an'  tell 
folks  that  John  B.  Smith,  of  Yarmouth,  has  discov- 
ered the  north  pole,  an'  is  a-holdin'  on  to  it  for  all 
he's  worth  ?' 

" '  You  kin  bet  your  entire  possessions,'  sez  I  to 
him,  sez  I,  'that  if  ever  I  get  back  to  a  place  where 
there's  less  latitood  an'  more  longitood  than  there 
is  up  here,  w'ere  there  is  all  the  latitood  you  kin  git 
an'  'ain't  no  longitood  at  all,  I'll  send  somebody  up 
to  find  you.' 

" '  Waal,'  sez  he,  '  there  won't  be  no  trouble 
about  your  gittin'  back.' 

"  With  that  he  whistles  two  or  three  times,  an' 
the  seal  come  swimmin'  up,  an'  wunk  his  eye  an' 
shook  his  flipper  at  him. 


THE   NORTH    POLE    DISCOVERED  143 

"  '  Go  git  the  boat,'  sez  lie  to  the  seal,  sez  he. 

"  The  seal  swum  away,  an'  then  I  sez  to  John  B. 
Smith,  sez  I, 

" '  Perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind  givin'  me  some 
dry  clothes.' 

"  Waal,  to  make  the  story  short,  he  fixed  me  out 
with  dry  clothes,  an'  then  the  seal  come  swimmin' 
round,  towin'  a  good  -  sized  yawl  -  boat.  John  B. 
Smith  an'  me  loaded  her  with  perwisions,  an'  then  I 
got  aboard.  Pshook  hands  with  Smith,  an'  sez  I  to 
him,  sez  I,  '  Good-bye  ;  an'  I  hope  no  one  will  steal 
your  pole  while  you  are  asleep.' 

" '  Good-bye,'  sez  he.  '  Be  sure  you  send  up  a 
relief  party.' 

"  I  jumped  into  the  boat,  an'  off  the  seal  went, 
towin'  me  to  the  south  at  a  twelve-knot  gait.  He 
never  let  up  on  towin'  me  till  we  come  in  sight  o'  a 
whaler  in  Smith  Sound.  Then  the  bloomin'  seal 
wouldn't  go  no  further,  an'  he  wouldn't  let  me  take 
the  boat.  So  I  got  out  an'  walked  across  the  ice, 
an'  waved  my  coat  till  the  ship  saw  me  an'  sent  a 
boat  for  me,  an'  that's  the  way  I  got  back  from  the 
north  pole." 

"  And  did  you  send  a  relief  party  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Waal,  I  been  tellin'  this  story  ever  since  I  got 
back  ;  but  do  you  know  wot  ?" 

"  Well,  what  ?"  said  Henry. 

"  I  can't  git  nobody  to  b'lieve  me." 

And  shaking  his  head  mournfully  the  Old  Sailor 
walked  slowly  away. 


HOW  I  BECAME  AN  ADMIEAL 

IT  was  a  clear  and  bracing  November  morning. 
The  off-shore  wind  was  light  but  steady,  so  that  the 
big  three-masted  schooners  climbing  upward  towards 
Sandy  Hook  had  aloft  their  staysails,  and  were  glid- 
ing nobly  along  at  a  six-knot  gait.  Here  and  there 
in  the  middle  distance  dancing  black  spots  on  the 
steel-gray  sea  showed  where  the  hardy  cod-fisher- 
man was  at  his  chilling  toil.  Ever  and  anon  a  dull 
whir  called  the  eye  to  masses  of  mottled  coots  cleav- 
ing their  way  southward.  But  it  was  not  upon  any 
of  these  familiar  sights  that  the  steady  glance  of 
the  Old  Sailor  was  fixed  as  he  balanced  himself  on 
hi*  sturdy  legs  near  the  end  of  the  pier.  He  was 
gazing  with  the  deepest  interest  upon  a  steamer 
which  was  churning  the  water  into  tangled  swirls 
of  silver  and  emerald -green  under  her  stern,  and 
tossing  it  in  fountains  of  sunlit  white  under  her 
forefoot  as  she  clove  her  way  towards  lower  lati- 
tudes. 

"  He  looks  excited,"  said  Henry. 

"Let's  go  and  find  out  what's  the  matter,"  said 
George.  And  the  two  boys  ran  down  the  pier  with 
a  merry  clatter  of  nimble  feet. 


HOW    I    BECAME    AN    ADMIRAL  145 

"An'  how's  the  wind  to-day?"  asked  the  Old 
Sailor,  without  turning  his  head. 

"  West  by  north,"  answered  Henry. 

"  Werry  good,  too.     An'  wot's  that  out  yonder?" 

"  Why,  a  steamer,  of  course,"  said  George. 

"  Of  course,  sez  you.  An'  wot  kind  o'  a  steam- 
er?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Henry;  "I  can't  quite  make 
out  her  flag.  It  looks  like  a  green  one  with  a  yel- 
low diamond  in  it." 

"  Werry  good ;  werry  good.  You'll  be  able  to 
see  round  a  corner  yet.  An'  wot's  that  on  her 
fo'c's'le  deck?" 

"Why,  it  looks  like  a  big  cannon!"  exclaimed 
George. 

"  So  it  are,  my  son ;  an'  the  flag  are  the  flag  o' 
Brayzil;  an'  the  wessel  are  the  new  cruiser  Nigthe- 
roy,  an'  she  are  boun'  'way  down  fur  Rio  to  smash 
Admiral  Mello." 

The  boys  now  were  deeply  interested. 

"  Ah  me !"  exclaimed  the  Old  Sailor ;  "  she  are 
ossifered  by  Americans,  an'  that  reminds  me  o'  the 
time  a  Kimee  ship  had  a  American  admiral,  w'ich 
the  same  I  were  him." 

"  Oh,  do  tell  us  about  that !"  exclaimed  Henry. 

"  That  are  the  werry  identical  thing  wot  I'm 
a-goin'  fur  to  do,"  said  the  Old  Sailor. 

"  Waal,"  he  continued,  after  a  momentary  pause, 
"you  may  call  me  a  landsman  ef  this  'ere  aren't  the 
way  wot  it  come  about.  I  were  fust-mate  o'  the  brig 
10 


146  SEA    YARNS   FOB   BOYS 

Sky  Blue  Jones,  boun'  from  Lewes  fur  Durban  with 
a  cargo  o'  Noo  Jarsee  moskeeters — " 

"  Oh,  please  wait !"  said  George.  "  What  did  they 
want  of  mosquitoes  at  Durban?" 

"  W'y,  the  natyves  uses  'em  to  cure  bilious  fevers, 
w'ich  the  same  their  bites  is  werry  good  fur.  Bil- 
ious fevers  rages  on  them  coasts  owin'  to  the  na- 
tyves a-livin'  mostly  on  ostridges'  eggs  poached  in 
goats'  milk,  an'  that  are  werry  bilious  purwision,-  as 
them  knows  wot  has  tried  it.  Howsumever,  that 
ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  this  'ere  yarn  wot  I'm 
a-tellin'  ye.  The  Sky  Blue  Jones  had  werry  good 
weather  till  she  got  'way  down  b'low  the  line,  an' 
then  it  come  on  to  blow  consid'able  from  the  no'th- 
east.  Fur  the  fust  two  days  it  wa'n't  no  more'n 
a  ordinary  gale,  an'  we  was  able  fur  to  run  to  the 
south'ard,  a-keepin'  o'  the  wind  an'  sea  on  our  port 
quarter.  But  the  cap'n  he  sez  to  me,  sez  he,  '  The 
glass  are  a-fallin'  all  the  time,  so  look  out  fur 
squalls.'  On  the  third  day  it  blowed  a  giniwine 
hurricane,  an'  we  hove  the  brig  to  on  the  port  tack. 
The  leeway  an'  drift  was  somethin'  dreadful,  an'  by 
the  follerin'  noon  we  didn't  have  no  putty  good  idee 
w'ere  we  was.  It  blowed  all  that  day  an'  all  that 
night,  an'  jess  after  daybreak  the  next  day  one  o' 
the  hands  yelled,  'Land  ho!'  Sure  'nuff,  there  it 
were,  right  under  our  lee,  with  half  a  mile  o'  surf 
outside  to  show  that  there  wos  shoals  an'  reefs. 
*  We're  a  goner,'  sez  the  cap'n  to  me,  sez  he  ;  '  them's 
the  Kimee  Islan's,  an'  ef  we  ain't  drownded  we'll  be 


HOW   I   BECAME   AN    ADMIRAL  147 

made  slaves.'  Wich  the  same  it  was  not  werry  en- 
couragin'  fur  to  hear." 

"  Where  are  the  Kimee  Islands  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Latitood  29°  south  an'  longitood  37°  west.  Least- 
ways that's  as  near  as  I  ever  knowed  w'ere  they 
was  ;  but  I  never  could  find  'em  on  the  chart.  Waal, 
to  make  this  'ere  yarn  shorter,  I  mought  as  well  say 
that  the  Sky  Blue  Jones  struck  ^the  outer  reefs  bow 
on,  an'  the  next  minute  a  tremenjous  sea  swep'  over 
her,  an'  I  were  carried  overboard.  I  don't  recko- 
meinber  werry  much  o'  the  subsekent  perceedin's 
till  I  found  myself  a-layin'  on  to  the  beach  an'  a  dele- 
gation o'  savidges  a-dancin'  a  hornpipe  around  me. 
As  soon  as  they  seed  I  were  come  to,  they  poured 
some  kind  o'  a  peppery  drink  down  my  throat,  an'  I 
felt  better  right  away.  Then  they  set  me  on  my 
feet  an'  started  me  inland.  I  wanted  to  know  wot 
'd  become  o'  my  shipmates,  an'  the  savidges  made 
me  onderstan'  by  signs  that  they  wos  all  drownded. 
You  may  be  sure  I  didn't  feel  werry  happy,  an'  I 
wanted  to  sit  right  down.  But  a  werry  tall  savidge, 
with  a  lady's  fur  boa  tied  around  his  waist  an'  a  old 
leather  hat-box  on  to  his  head,  prodded  me  with  his 
spear,  an'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  'No  sit;  walk.'  So 
I  jess  walked.  I  found  arterward  that  this  'ere  sav- 
idge could  speak  English  putty  well,  as  he'd  been 
on  exhibition  once  in  a  museum  in  England.  They 
marched  me  off  to  their  willage,  w'ich  the  same  it 
were  nothin'  but  a  lot  o'  tents  made  out  o'  hides. 
The  nex'  day  they  put  me  to  work  a-poundin'  dried 


148  SEA   YARNS    FOB   BOYS 

cocoanut  up  fur  flour.  It  were  the  only  kind  o' 
flour  they  knowed  anythin'  about.  I  might  'a'  been 
there  yet  ef  it  hadn't  been  fur  the  war  wot  I  got  to 
be  a  admiral  in. 

"  Ye  see,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  after  another 
glance  at  the  Nictheroy,  now  well  to  the  southward, 
"the  Kimee  Islands  was  divided  into  two  parts,  an' 
the  chiefs  o'  the  two  parts  was  mortal  inimies,  owin' 
to  one  o'  them  havin'  stole  from  t'other  the  only  plug- 
hat  wot  ever  come  ashore  from  a  wrack  there.  He 
stole  the  box  too,  an'  wore  that  fur  his  every-day 
hat.  The  other  chief  were  allus  a-tryin'  to  git  that 
hat  back,  an'  so  Pusowynee,  the  feller  wot  had  it 
— an'  also  me — were  allus  in  hot  water.  Arter  I'd 
bin  there  about  two  months  an'  had  braced  up  Pu- 
sowynee's  English  so  that  him  an'  me  could  con- 
warse  putty  good,  old  Thakelbolen,  the  other  chief, 
made  one  o'  his  attacks.  Waal,  it  were  more  fun 
than  a  dog-fight.  Old  Thakelbolen,  wearin'  a  wom- 
an's blue  sailor-hat  wi'  a  red  feather  in't,  a  gridiron 
for  a  breastplate,  an'  a  umbrella  cover  wi'  the  ribs 
into  't  yet  fur  a  skirt,  comes  over  in  a  big  war  canoe, 
paddled  by  a  dozen  savidges.  He  were  followed  by 
a  dozen  other  canoes  all  loaded  with  Kimees.  An' 
how  do  you  s'pose  them  fellers  fout?" 

"  Why,  how?"  asked  both  boys. 

"  They  throwed  things  at  one  another  !  Honest ! 
They  throwed  spears  an'  stones,  w'ich  the  same  them 
canoes  was  loaded  with.  An'  they  could  throw 
mighty  hard  an'  straight,  too.  O'  course  they  didn't 


HOW    I   BECAME    AN    ADMIRAL  149 

kill  werry  many  on  neither  side,  but  they  wounded 
a  lot.  Pusowynee,  ye  see,  got  out  his  canoes  an' 
went  to  meet  'em,  an'  this  'ere  remarkable  naval 
battle  ,took  place  outside  o'  the  reefs  in  the  open 
water.  Waal,  arter  two  hours  o'  hard  fightin'  Tha- 
kelbolen  an'  his  gang  had  to  sheer  off,  'cos  they  didn't 
have  nothin'  more  to  throw,  an'  Pusowynee  he 
wouldn't  run  away.  Wen  the  chief  come  ashore 
he  had  lumps  all  over  him  w'ere  he'd  bin  hit,  an'  a 
hole  in  the  leather  hat-box,  w'ere  Thakelbolen  his- 
self  had  sent  a  spear  through  't.  He  were  putty 
mad,  were  Pusowynee,  an'  sez'  he  to  me,  sez  he, 
'  Nex'  time  I  go  I  kill  him,  sure.'  Pusowynee  were 
a  werry  pertikler  man  sometimes. 

"  Howsumever,  that  night  w'en  I  were  in  my 
bunk,  w'ich  the  same  were  a  soft  spot  on  the  ground, 
I  thort  the  thing  over,  an'  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  '  I 
reckon  I  kin  1'arn  Pusowynee  a  thing  or  two,  an' 
prehaps  he'll  be  so  grateful  he'll  let  me  go.'  Ye  see, 
them  there  savidges  never  used  sails  on  to  their  ca- 
noes 'ceptin'  w'en  they  wos  runnin'  dead  afore  the 
wind;  'cos  w'y,  their  canoes  made  so  much  leeway 
w'en  they  tried  to  sail  'em  any  other  way.  So  I  sez 
to  Pusowynee,  sez  I,  'W'y  don't  ye  put  a  centre- 
board into  your  canoe  so's  ye  can  sail  to  windward  ?' 
Waal,  he  looked  at  me  a  minute  an'  then  shook 
his  head.  '  You  gone  crazy,  eh  ?'  he  sez  to  me,  sez 
he.  'Not  much,'  sez  I  to  he,  sez  I ;  'you  gimme  a 
canoe  an'  let  me  fix  her  up  an'  I'll  show  you.' 
Waal,  he  didn'  seem  to  think  there'd  be  no  harm 


150  SEA    YARNS    FOK   BOYS 

in  a-givin'  me  a  canoe  to  play  with,  an'  so  he  gave 
me  one  about  twenty-five  foot  long.  In  about  two 
days  I  had  a  centre-board  into  her,  an'  I  inwited 
the  chief  to  take  a  sail.  The  wind  were  a-blowin' 
dead  on  shore,  an'  about  three-quarters  o'  a  mile  to 
wind'ard  were  a  big  rock  stickin'  out  o'  the  sea. 
Sez  I  to  he,  sex  I,  '  Can  I  sail  to  that  rock?'  Sez  he 
to  me,  sez  he,  *  No  ;  wind  blow  us  back.'  Then  sez 
I  to  he,  sez  I,  '  Watch  us  get  there,'  jess  like  that, 
him  bein'  a  chief  an'  me  a  miseracious  pris'ner.  I 
got  under  way  on  the  port  tack,  an'  as  soon  as  I 
headed  the  canoe  up  within  about  five  points  o'  the 
wind,  Pusowynee  nearly  had  a  fit.  '  Canoe  go  back- 
ward !'  he  shouted.  '  Not  much  !'  sez  I.  An'  w'en 
I  went  about  an'  headed  her  dead  fur  the  rock  on 
the  starb'rd  tack,  he  blame  nigh  jumped  overboard. 
On  the  run  back  I  explained  the  principle  o'  the 
centre-board  to  him.  W'en  we  jumped  ashore,  all 
the  savidges  set  up  a  yell  and  waved  their  spears, 
an'  Pusowynee  then  an'  there  app'inted  me  chief  o' 
his  war  canoes,  w'ich  were  the  same  as  bein'  admiral 
o'  the  fleet.  I  spent  a  couple  o'  weeks  in  fittin'  'em 
all  out  with  centre-boards.  Then  news  come  that 
old  Thakelbolen  were  approachin'  with  a  fair  wind. 
We  got  our  fleet  under  way.  I  had  already  showed 
a  lot  o'  the  savidges  how  to  sail  to  wind'ard,  an'  we 
beat  up  to  meet  Thakelbolen.  Waal,  w'en  he  seed 
us  zigzaggin'  up  ag'in'  the  wind,  he  were  clean  flab- 
bergasted, an'  his  warriors  begin  to  yell,  '  Hovelko ! 
hovelko  !'  W'ich  the  same  in  the  Kimee  langwidge 


HOW    I    BECAME   AN    ADMIRAL  151 

means  'Magic.'  Old  Pusowynee  he  jess  laid  down 
in  the  bottom  o'  the  canoe  an'  had  a  fit  a-laughin'. 
'Thakelbolen  heap  scared  !'  he  screeched.  But  the 
nex'  thing  we  knowed  old  Thak  an'  his  fleet  jess 
turned  tail  an'  begin  to  paddle  straight  back.  Now 
ye  can  paddle  a  canoe  dead  to  wind'ard,  but  ye  can't 
sail  that  way.  So  Thakelbolen  putty  soon  begin  to 
get  away  from  us.  Waal,  that  settled  the  whole 
business  with  Pusowynee. 

" '  Centel-board  no  good !'  he  yelled.  'White  slave 
bad  man  !  Take  down  him  sail !  Paddle !  Paddle 
hard!' 

"But  it  wasn't  any  good.  Thakelbolen  had  a 
good  lead,  an',  besides,  all  the  centre-boards  was 
a-draggin'  under  our  canoes  an'  a-holdin'  'em  back. 
Pusowynee  he  looked  as  if  he  would  eat  me,  an'  I 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  were  as  good  as  cooked. 
Howsumever,  I  got  off  with  fifty  lashes  ;  but  Puso- 
wynee had  all  the  centre-boards  took  out  o'  the  ca- 
noes as  soon  as  he  got  ashore.  It  were  werry  lucky 
fur  me  that  the  canoe  he  lent  me  were  a-lyin'  all  by 
herself  in  a  little  cove  about  a  mile  up  the  beach,  an' 
so  her  centre-board  stayed  in  ;  'cos  w'y,  she  were  fur- 
got.  Waal,  Pusowynee  he  jess  piled  the  work  on  to 
me  arter  that,  an'  I  got  putty  much  down  in  the 
mouth,  till  all  on  a  suddent  one  night  a  idea  come  to 
me.  Every  raornin'  arter  that  I  turned  out  extra  'arly, 
an'  managed  to  do  a  little  work  on  my  own  hook 
down  in  the  woods  near  the  beach.  I'd  made  up  my 
mind  to  show  Pusowynee  a  way  to  throw  bigger 


Io2  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

stones,  an'  throw  'em  furder  'n  old  Thak  could.  I 
reckoned  to  rig  up  a  scheme  to  sink  his  canoes." 

"How?"  inquired  both  boys. 

"  That  are  the  werry  identical  thing  wot  I'm 
a-goiri'  fur  to  tell  ye.  Oncet  upon  a  time  I  heerd  o' 
monkeys  bendin'  down  cocoanut-trees  an'  lettin'  'em 
fly  up  agin  so  they  chucked  the  nuts  half  a  mile. 
So  I  picked  out  a  nice  stout  young  tree,  an'  trimmed 
off  all  the  branches.  Then  I  built  a  sort  o'  a  box 
up  near  the  top  o'  the  tree,  facin'  to  the  sea.  Arter 
that  I  hunted  up  some  rope  an'  blocks  wot  'd  come 
ashore  from  the  brig.  I  put  a  lashin'  'round  the  tree 
jess  b'low  the  box,  an'  hooked  a  block  into  't.  Then 
I  rove  my  rope  through  the  block,  an'  agin  through 
a  snatch -block  made  fast  to  the  foot  o'  another 
tree.  I  hauled  down  the  top  o'  the  tree,  the  young 
trunk  bendin'  like  a  fine  bow.  Now  I  seed  that  ef  I 
let  'er  go  I'd  soon  bust  my  block  all  to  pieces  with 
the  slashin'  around  it  'd  git.  So  I  rigged  a  kind  o' 
trigger,  like  ye  put  on  a  rabbit  snare,  to  hold  the 
tree  down.  I  put  a  stone  weighin'  about  thirty 
pound  inter  the  box,  onhooked  my  block  an'  fall,  an' 
pulled  the  trigger.  Waal,  that  stone  whistled  like 
a  cannon-ball  w'en  it  went  off.  It  whizzed  out  to 
sea  a  good  500  yards,  an'  then  skipped  three  or  four 
times,  an'  sank.  The  nex'  day  I  begged  fur  a  audi- 
ence with  Pusowynee,  but  he  sent  word  back  that 
he  didn'  want  no  more  centre-boards.  Lucky  fur 
me,  I'd  made  friends  with  one  o'  his  right-hand  men, 
an'  I  got  him  to  go  an'  see  my  stone-chucker." 


'  AWAY    WENT    THE    STONE AN*  ALSO    PUSOWYNEE  ' 


HOW    I    BECAME    AN    ADMIRAL  153 

"  The  ancients  called  them  catapults,"  said  Henry. 

"Well,  mebbe,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor;  "but 
I  guess  nobody  but  a  sailor-man  would  V  thort  o' 
this  scheme.  Nex'  day  the  chief  came  to  see  't,  an' 
he  danced  a  war -dance.  'Now  kill  Thakelbolen 
from  shore  !  No  go  in  centre-board  canoe  !  Good !' 
he  sez.  Then  I  told  him  I  could  make  bigger  ones 
than  this,  ef  he  would  gimme  crews  to  handle  'em. 
He  agreed,  an'  in  a  few  days  I  had  five  o'  them — 
wot  d'  ye  call  'em? — catterpulps  ,all  ready  fur  old 
Thakelbolen.  The  werry  nex'  day  old  Thak's  fleet 
o'  canoes  was  seen  a-comin'.  Pusowynee  allowed 
that  this  were  a-goin'  to  be  the  greatest  day  o'  his 
life.  So  he  got  out  the  sacred  plug-hat.  Thakel- 
bolen didn'  know  wot  to  make  o'  our  not  comin' 
out  to  meet  him,  an'  he  brought  his  fleet  to  'bout 
four  hundred  yards  off,  an'  set  up  a  loud  yellin'. 
Pusowynee  tips  me  the  nod,  an'  I  lets  go  a  hundred- 
pound  stone,  w'ich  the  same  hits  one  o'  Thak's  canoes 
an'  smashes  in  one  side.  The  water  ran  in  an'  the  ca- 
noe turned  over,  dumpin'  the  savidges  into  the  sea. 
Thak  an'  his  forces  was  jess  stunned  by  this  new 
freak,  an'  they  couldn't  move.  '  Now  kill !  Now 
kill !'  yelled  Pusowynee.  So  we  lets  go  the  whole 
broadside,  an'  w'en  the  spray  cleared  away  there 
were  only  one  canoe  left,  an'  that  were  the  flag- 
ship, with  Thakelbolen  in  command.  '  Kill  quick  !' 
screamed  Pusowynee.  We  hauled  down  our  big- 
gest tree,  an'  hoisted  in  a  300-pounder.  Pusowy- 
nee got  so  excited  that  he  jumped  forrard  to  onhook 


154  SKA   YARNS   FOE    BOYS 

the  block  an'  fall  hisself.  At  that  blessed  minnit 
the  feller  at  the  trigger  got  out  o'  his  senses,  an' 
pulled  without  orders.  Swish !  Up  went  the  tree, 
away  went  the  stone — an'  also  Pusowynee ! 

"We  seed  him  a-sailin'  thro'  the  air,  holdin' 
the  sacred  plug-hat  on  with  both  hands,  an'  a-turnin' 
more  somersets  than  a  Fourth  -  o' -  July  pinwheel. 
The  stone  fell  short,  but  Pusowynee  went  ca-plump 
into  the  middle  o'  Thakelbolen's  canoe,  w'ere  he  laid 
senseless,  w'ile  old  Thak  grabbed  the  sacred  plug- 
hat,  put  it  on  his  own  head  with  a  yell  of  victory, 
an'  then  went  otf  at  full  speed  fur  home,  with  Pu- 
sowynee a  prisoner." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused  for  a  minute,  after  which 
he  resumed,  with  the  deepest  solemnity : 

"  Boys,  I  took  adwantage  o'  the  subsekent  confu- 
sion to  git  into  the  woods  as  fast  as  my  legs  would 
carry  me.  I  loaded  my  canoe  with  cocoanuts,  an' 
that  night,  as  soon  as  it  were  dark,  I  got  under  way 
with  a  brisk  westerly  wind,  an'  stood  to  the  no'th- 
east.  I  were  picked  up  two  days  later  by  the  Eng- 
lish cruiser  Australia)  an'  landed  at  Gibraltar,  w'ere 
I  shipped  fur  London  on  a  collier.  An'  so  I  got  back 
to  Ameriky." 


A  VERY  HOT  CONTEST 

IT  was  a  clear,  cool  summer  morning,  and  the  Old 
Sailor  sat  in  his  customary  place  at  the  end  of  the 
pier.  The  two  boys  were  sitting  beside  him.  All 
three  were  gazing  out  on  the  ocean.  The  long 
glassy  swells  rolled  lazily  in,  and  shattered  them- 
selves into  fragments  of  flashing  silver  against  the 
hard  yellow  beach.  A  stately  fish-hawk  soared  high 
above,  a  floating  silhouette  against  the  clear  blue 
sky.  Far  out  to  the  eastward  a  magnificent  full- 
rigged  ship  with  double  top  -  sails  and  top  -  gallants 
rolled  slowly  as  she  vainly  strove  to  make  her  way 
to  the  southward  in  the  light  air.  Nearer  to  the 
land  two  steamers  were  tearing  the  water  into  clouds 
of  smokelike  spray  as  they  hurried  down  the  coast. 
Heavy  columns  of  black  smoke  showed  that  the 
stokers  hidden  away  in  the  dark  recesses  below  were 
spreading  fresh  coal  on  the  fires. 

"  S'posin'  I  wos  to  ax  you,"  said  the  Old  Sailor, 
suddenly,  "wot  them  there  two  steamers  wos  a- 
doin',  wot  'd  you  say  ?" 

"  I'd  say  that  they  were  firing  up,"  answered 
Henry,  confidently. 

"Werry  good,"   said   the  Old  Sailor  —  "werry 


156  SEA   YARNS   FOE   BOYS 

good  as  fur  as  it  goes.  But  wot  are  they  a-firin'  up 
fur  ?" 

"Because  they're  in  a  hurry,"  said  little  George. 

"  Also,  moreover,  an'  likewise  werry  good  too. 
But  howsumever  ye  'ain't  hit  the  p'int  yit." 

"Won't  you  tell  us  what  the  point  is?"  said 
Henry. 

"  That  are  the  werry  identical  thing  wot  I'm  about 
to  go  fur  to  come  fur  to  do,"  answered  the  Old  Sail- 
or. "  Ye  see  them  there  two  steamers  is  a-startin' 
on  a  race." 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  both  boys. 

"  Edzackly — oh,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  grave- 
ly. Then,  after  a  moment  of  silence,  he  unexpect- 
edly continued :  "  W'ich  the  same  it  reminds  me 
o'  the  v'yage  I  made  on  the  tramp-steamer  Pickled 
Pepper  from  Constantinople  to  Noo  Yawk  in  the 
year  1878." 

"Please  tell  us  about  it,"  said  the  boys. 

" '  Ain't  you  two  boys  knowed  me  long  enough 
to  know  that  w'en  I  gits  reminded  o'  suthin'  I  allus 
tells  ye  about  it  ?  Wot  else  's  the  use  o'  gittin'  re- 
minded ?  Anyhow,  s'  help  me  Sally  Growler,  ef  this 
ain't  the  way  wot  it  happened.  The  Pickled  Pep- 
per had  taken  on  a  cargo  o'  ottomans.  Do  ye  know 
wot  a  ottoman  are  ?" 

"  It's  a  sofa  without  a  back,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Werry  good.  It  aren't  got  no  back  an'  conse- 
quentially no  backbone,  w'ich  are  w'y  it's  like  Tur- 
key, an'  that  are  w'y  it  are  called  the  Ottoman  Em- 


A    VEKY  HOT    CONTEST  157 

pire.  Ottomans  was  all  the  rage  in  1878,  an'  the 
genooine  ones  from  Turkey  was  a  -  sellin'  like  hot 
cakes.  The  steamer  P.  W.  Murphy  were  a-loadin' 
with  'em  at  the  same  time  we  was,  an'  we  knowed 
there  were  a-goin'  to  be  a  scrimmage  to  see  who'd 
git  to  Noo  Yawk  fust.  'Cos  w'y,  ef  we  botli  got  in 
at  oncet  an'  dumped  all  our  ottomans  on  to  the  mar- 
ket, the  price  'd  go  down.  But  ef  we  could  git  in  a 
day  or  two  ahead,  the  firm  wot  were  a-goin'  to  take 
our  ottomans  could  git  'em  all  sold  off  afore  the  P. 
W.  Murphy  could  discharge  her  cargo.  Well,  as 
luck  'd  have  it,  jess  as  we  wos  a-gittin'  the  last  o' 
our  cargo  aboard,  somethin'  busted  down  in  the  en- 
gine-room. The  engineer  said  as  how  it  would  take 
twenty-four  hours  to  repair  it,  so  the  P.  W.  Murphy 
got  to  sea  six  hours  ahead  o'  us.  That  made  our 
cap'n  b'ilin'  mad.  As  soon  as  we  started  he  shouts 
down  the  tube  to  the  engineer,  '  Shove  the  old  ket- 
tle through  it  till  her  sides  smoke  ;  we  got  to  beat 
that  Irish  tramp  to  Sandy  Hook.'  An'  the  engineer 
he  sez  to  the  cap'n,  sez  he,  '  Werry  good,  sir ;  it 
should  be  did.' 

"  Putty  soon  a  most  outrageous  black  smoke  come 
a-rollin'  up  out  o'  the  funnels.  '  That's  business,' 
sez  the  cap'n  ;  '  but  goodness  gracious,  wot  a  lot 
o'  soot  are  a-fallin'!'  Sure  'nuff,  the  soot  beginned 
fur  to  come  down  out  o'  that  smoke  like  it  were 
black  snow,  an'  putty  soon  the  whole  deck  abaft 
the  smoke  -  stack  were  covered  with  it  two  inches 
deep.  The  cap'n  he  calls  the  bo'sun's  mate,  an' 


158  SEA   YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

tells  him  to  git  a  gang  o'  men  an'  shovel  it  off,  an' 
then  he  calls  down  to  the  engineer,  an'  sez  he  to 
him,  sez  he,  '  Wot  on  'arth  are  you  a-burnin'  ?'  An' 
the  engineer  sez  he  to  him,  sez  he :  '  It's  that  bloom- 
in'  Turkish  coal.  I  think  they've  swindled  us.  We 
bought  it  at  the  same  place  as  the  P.  W.  Mur- 
phy, though.'  Then  the  cap'n  danced  an'  used  hard 
words.  'Them  fellows  has  paid  the  coal -man  to 
sell  us  bad  coal,  but  we'll  beat  'em  anyhow.'  So  he 
ordered  the  engineer  to  pile  on  the  coal,  an'  not 
stop  to  worry  about  w'ether  it  'd  last  till  we  got  to 
port,  an'  he  told  him  to  tie  down  the  safety-valve. 
'  We'll  bust  our  b'ilers  an'  all  go  to  Davy  Jones's 
locker  afore  we  git  beat,'  sez  the  cap'n.  '  Werry 
good,  sir,'  sez  the  engineer  to  him,  sez  he  ;  'Davy 
Jones's  locker  are  our  port,  ef  yer  sez  so.'  An' 
then  the  smoke  beginned  fur  to  git  wuss  an'  wuss. 
We  was  all  busy  tryin'  to  sweep  the  soot  off  the 
deck,  but  we  could  hear  the  awful  rumpus  the  en- 
gines was  a-makin'  down  below.  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  Davy  Jones's  locker  were  close  aboard  o' 
us,  but  it  turned  out  that  we  wosn't  bound  there, 
arter  all. 

"  It  were  daylight  the  fourth  day  w'cn  the  P.  W. 
Murphy  were  sighted  dead  ahead  o'  us.  She  were 
about  ten  miles  away,  an'  so  we'd  gained  a  good 
fifty  mile  on  her.  'Cos  w'y,  we  reckoned  that  her 
best  speed  were  about  ten  knots,  an'  we'd  got  up  to 
a  p'int  ten  miles  astern  arter  her  leavin'  six  hours 
ahead  o'  us.  Well,  mebbe  that  'ere  P.  W.  Murphy 


A   VERY    HOT    CONTEST  159 

weren't  a-hustlin'.  She  sart'nly  were.  Wy,  the 
water  were  a-flyin'  a  dozen  feet  high  under  her 
starn  w'ere  the  perpeller  were  a-slashin'  it.  But, 
ye  see,  the  wessel's  lines  wos  so  full  that  she  couldn't 
be  druv  no  faster.  An'  now  it  come  to  a  question 
o'  who  could  keep  up  the  strain  best  an'  longest. 

"'Put  suthin'  greasy  on  to  your  fires,'  calls  our 
cap'n  down  to  the  engineer. 

" '  All  right,  sir,'  sez  the  engineer,  sez  he.  '  We 
got  two  hundred  Cincinnati  hams  in  our  stores. 
How'llthemdo?' 

"'Let  the  cook  cut  all  the  fat  off  'em,  an'  heave 
it  in.' 

" '  Werry  good,'  sez  the  engineer,  sez  he.  An'  in 
half  an  hour  light  blue  smoke  beginned  fur  to  come 
up  out  o'  the  smoke  stack,  an'  dear,  dear,  wot  a  dread- 
ful smell !  Next  thing  we  knowed  the  same  kind  o' 
smoke  were  a-comin'  from  the  P.  W.  Murphy. 

"  '  They're  a-burnin'  their  hams,  too,'  sez  the  cap'n, 
'but  we'll  beat  'em  at  that  game.' 

"Then  he  ordered  the  ship's  carpenter  to  broach 
the  paint-room  stores,  an'  in  a  few  minutes  the  stok- 
ers was  a-firin'  up  with  raw  an'  boiled  linseed -oil, 
turpentine,  Japan,  mineral  paint,  an'  patent  drier. 
My  eye,  you  never  see  nothin'  burn  like  that  patent 
drier  !  It  made  the  fire  so  hot  that  the  engineer 
called  up  through  the  tube. 

" '  The  steam's  too  much  heated  ;  it's  makin'  the 
cylinders  red-hot !' 

" '  Turn  the  hose  on  'em,'  sez  the  cap'n,  sez  he. 


160  SEA    YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

'We  got  to  beat  that  bloomin'  tramp,  an'  there 
mustn't  be  no  accidents.' 

"  The  perpeller  were  a-thrashin'  away  mos'  dread- 
ful, w'en  all  on  a  suddent  there  were  a  jolt,  an'  the 
engineer  reports  that  one  blade  were  bruk  off  the 
screw. 

" '  Make  her  go  around  faster,  then,'  sez  the 
cap'n. 

" 'Then  I  got  to  have  more  fire,'  sez  the  engineer. 

" '  Send  down  the  top-gallant-yards,'  sez  the  cap'n, 
'an'  w'en  them's  gone  give  him  the  tops'l- yards. 
I'll  burn  all  the  wood  on  the  consarned  ole  hooker, 
but  I  will  catch  the  P.  W.  Murphy? 

"  The  yards  wos  lowered  an'  chopped  up,  an' 
byme-by  we  got  orders  to  give  the  stokers  the  top- 
masts. The  lower-masts  was  iron,  so  they  couldn't 
burn  them ;  but  we  unrove  all  the  riggin'  wot  were 
made  o'  tarred  rope,  an'  that  went  into  the  fire  too. 
The  furnaces  wos  red-hot  now,  an'  hands  wos  a- 
standin'  by  heavin'  water  on  'em  to  keep  'em  from 
meltin.'  Every  half -hour  the  steward  went  'round 
an'  put  ice  on  the  heads  o'  the  engineers  an'  stokers, 
or  else  they'd  'a'  died  right  at  their  posts.  The 
thermometer  were  170°  in  the  fire-room.  Fust  thing 
we  knowed  there  were  another  jolt,  an'  the  engineer 
calls  up, 

"  '  Another  blade  are  gone,  sir.' 

"  '  Turn  the  bloomin'  thing  around  faster,'  sez  the 
cap'n,  sez  he. 

" '  Gimme  more  fire  !'  yells  the  engineer. 


A   VERY    HOT   CONTEST  161 

" '  Rip  out  the  cabin  bulkheads,'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"  Bang  !  went  the  axes,  an'  we  commenced  chop- 
pin'  the  ship  apart. 

" '  I  wonder  ef  we're  a-gainin'  any  on  to  her,'  sez 
the  cap'n. 

"Then  he  sends  for  his  sextant,  an'  he  takes  the 
altitood  o'  the  P.  W.  Murphy's  water-line,  an'  he 
sez,  sez  he  : 

"'We  ain't  a-gainin'  a  bloomin'  foot  on  to  her. 
We  got  to  make  more  steam  an'  drive  that  one 
blade  faster  or  bust  our  b'ilers  in  the  attempt.' 

" '  Werry  good,  sir,'  sez  the  mate,  w'ich  he  were 
me.  'Wot  shall  we  burn  next?' 

"  '  The  deck-houses  an'  the  boats.     Let  'er  go  !' 

"An'  accordin'  to  orders  I  lets  'er  go,  fur  I  seed 
now  that  the  cap'n  was  bound  to  win,  ef  he  had  to 
jump  into  the  furnace  hisself.  This  'ere  race  wot 
I'm  a-tellin'  you  'bout  had  now  been  goin'  on  several 
days,  an'  we  was  more'n  half-way  across.  The  P. 
W.  Murphy  were  still  about  ten  mile  ahead  o'  us. 
All  at  oncet  she  stopped. 

"  '  Quick  !  Quick  !'  yells  the  cap'n  ;  '  git  me  my 
glass,  till  I  see  wot's  the  matter  with  her.' 

"  I  fetched  him  the  glass,  an'  he  took  a  squint. 
Then  he  ups  an'  slams  the  glass  down  on  the  deck, 
an'  knocked  it  so  crooked  you  could  see  round  turns 
in  the  horizon  line. 

"  '  They've   come   across  a  dirilict   loaded    with 
wood,  an'  they're  a-gittin'  of  't  aboard  !'  sez  he  to 
me,  sez  he. 
it 


162  SEA    YARNS   FOE    BOYS 

"  '  Werry  good,  sir  ;  but  all  the  time  we're  a-run- 
nin'  up  on  to  her  hand  over  hand,'  sez  I  to  he,  sez 
I,  jess  like  that,  him  bein'  cap'n  an'  me  mate. 

'"But  you  howlin'  old  idiot,'  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he, 
*  we're  a-burnin'  up  the  ship  under  our  werry  feet !' 

"  '  We  ain't  a-burnin'  the  engine  an'  the  screw,' 
sez  I  to  he,  sez  I. 

"  'You're  a  loonatic,'  sez  he,  dancin'  round  like  his 
feet  hurt  him. 

"  '  It  are  so  hot  down  here  that  the  men  can't 
stand,'  comes  up  from  the  engine-room. 

" '  Turn  a  hose  on  'em  an'  cool  'em  off,'  sez  the 
cap'n. 

" '  But  that'll  fill  the  engine-room  with  water.' 

"  '  Bail  it  out,  then  !' 

"  I  made  up  my  mind  the  cap'n  were  gone  crazy, 
an'  I'd  have  to  stand  by  to  save  the  ship.  The  JP. 
W.  Murphy  knocked  off  takin'  on  wood  w'en  we  got 
about  two  mile  astern  o'  her,  an'  beginned  ploughing 
ahead  agin  at  a  ten-knot  gait.  She  hadn't  burnt  up 
her  yards  nor  nothin',  but  she'd  sent  all  her  spars 
down,  so  as  to  be  on  even  tarmes  with  us. 

"  '  Can't  ye  drive  that  thing  around  faster?'  yells 
the  cap'n  down  to  the  engine-room  agin. 

"  '  No,  our  fire's  gittin'  low.' 

"  *  Rip  up  the  deck !'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"  '  All  hands  rip  up  deck !'  yells  the  bo'sun's  mate. 

"  The  men  stared  a  bit,  an'  then  fell  to  with  axes 
an'  hatchets,  an'  the  plankin'  beginned  fur  to  come 
np.  It  were  good  fat  Georgy  pine,  an',  my  lands, 


A   VERY    HOT    CONTEST  163 

how 't  did  burn !  We  piled  that  on,  an'  then  the 
steward  came  on  deck,  an'  sez  he  to  the  cap'n,  sez 
he, 

"  '  We  got  lots  o'  sugar  an'  molasses  an'  sweet-oil 
an'  putty  consid'able  kerosene  in  the  stores.' 

"  <  W'y  on  'arth  didn't  ye  tell  us  that  afore  ?' 
screamed  the  cap'n.  '  Put  'em  all  in  the  furnace 
fires.' 

"  Ten  minutes  arterwards  he  hollers  down  to  the 
engineer : 

"  '  How  are  your  fires  now  ?     Hot  'nuff  ?' 

"  '  Too  hot!  The  iron  plates  in  the  ship's  sides  is 
a-meltin'.' 

"  '  Let  'em  melt  an'  be  blowed !'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"  '  But  this  'ere  wessel  '11  sink,'  sez  I  to  he,  sez  I. 

"  '  Who  'n  Jerusalem  cares  ?'  sez  he  to  me,  jess  like 
that. 

"  '  But  we  can't  get  the  cargo  to  port  ef  the  ship 
sinks,'  sez  I  to  he. 

"  *  Can't,  eh — can't  ?  Call  yourself  an  old  sailor  ? 
You  watch  me,  an'  I'll  show  ye  how  we  can  get 
this  'ere  cargo  into  port.' 

"  Then  he  orders  the  bo'sun's  mate  to  take  all 
hands  b'low  an'  pack  them  ottomans  down  into  the 
lower  hold. 

"  '  Cut  away  all  the  bulkheads,'  sez  he,  '  an'  run 
the  ottomans  in  solid  from  stem  to  starn.  Then  git 
all  the  wire  riggin'  aboard  an'  lash  'em  together,  so 
they  can't  possibly  come  apart.' 

"  The  hands  jumped  b'low  to  do  w'at  he'd  told  'em. 


164  SEA    YARNS    FOR   BOYS 

All  this  time  the  ship  were  a-reelin'  an'  a-tremblin' 
like  she  had  a  fit.  But  we  was  a-gainin'  on  the  P. 
~W.  Murphy,  Half  an  hour  later  we  passed  her. 
All  hands  was  called  on  deck  to  cheer.  But  the  en- 
gineer he  yells  up  the  tube, 

" '  All  the  bolts  in  the  wessel's  frames  is  melted 
out,  an'  I  spect  she'll  fall  apart.' 

"  'Let  'er  go !'  yells  the  cap'n.     'All  hands  b'low!' 

"  He  jumped  off  the  bridge  an'  tumbled  down 
into  the  hold.  We  all  follered,  even  the  man  at  the 
wheel.  The  next  minute  there  were  a  crash  an'  a 
tremenjous  sizzlin',  an'  the  old  ship  jess  opened  out 
like  a  piece  o'  paper  wot's  bin  folded.  There  were 
nothin'  left  to  hold  her  together,  an'  her  iron  sides 
flattened  out  an'  went  steamin'  an'  bubblin'  down 
into  the  sea.  An'  then  we  all  seed  the  cap'n's  idee. 
Fur  we  found  ourselves  afloat  on  them  there  otto- 
mans, an',  bless  your  souls,  so  were  the  furnaces  an' 
the  engines  an'  the  shaft  an'  the  perpeller!  All  the 
time  we'd  been  so  excited  that  we  didn't  know 
w'ere  we  wos,  but  now  we  seed  that  we  wos  not 
more'n  twenty  miles  off  Sandy  Hook.  At  that 
werry  minute  blow  me  fur  pickles  ef  there  weren't 
a  tremenjous  explogion,  an'  we  seed  that  the  P.  Wl 
Murphy  had  bust  her  b'ilers ! 

"  '  Hooray !'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"  'Hooray!'  sez  us. 

"  At  that  there  were  a  jolt  an'  a  wobble,  an'  wot 
d'ye  think  ?" 

"  What  ?"  asked  the  boys,  breathlessly. 


A   VERY   HOT    CONTEST  165 

"  The  rest  o'  our  perpeller  were  gone. 

"  '  Stick  a  ottoman  on  to  the  shaft!'  sez  the  cap'n. 

"  No  sooner  said  than  done,  an'  the  whole  ci'ew 
putty  nigh  died  a-laffin'  to  see  that  Turkish  sofa 
thrashin'  the  water.  But  it  kep'  us  goin'  ahead,  an' 
byrae-by  we  got  a  tug  an'  was  towed  up  the  harbor, 
an'  got  our  cargo  landed  twelve  hours  ahead  o'  the 
P.  W.  Murphy." 

"  A  great  victory !"  exclaimed  Henry. 

"  Not  so  werry,  either,"  said  the  Old  Sailor, 
solemnly.  "  'Cos  w'y,  they  went  an'  discharged  me 
an'  the  cap'n  fur  gittin'  the  goods  damidged  by 
water !" 


THE  UNSINKABLE  PILOT-BOAT 

IT  was  a  warm  bazy  day  in  August.  The  air 
seemed  to  be  saturated  with  moisture,  and  yet  full 
of  heat.  Looking  out  to  sea  one  could  trace  the 
progress  of  successive  showers  by  straight  columns 
of  deep  neutral  tint  which  seemed  to  move  around 
the  horizon  with  solemn  dignity.  Here  and  there 
patches  of  grayish  mist  obscured  the  rim  of  the  sea, 
and  gave  a  surprising  appearance  of  steam  rising 
from  the  water.  The  ocean  itself  was  a  dozen  dif- 
ferent colors  by  reason  of  the  many  varieties  of  sky 
reflected  in  its  waters.  There  was  almost  no  wind 
at  all,  and  the  swells  ran  in  oily,  silent,  snakelike  un- 
dulations to  the  beach,  where  they  broke  with  an 
angry  serpentine  hissing.  Vessels  came  and  went 
from  the  curtains  of  shifting  mist  like  ghosts  walk- 
ing upon  the  water.  Altogether  it  was  an  uncanny 
morning,  yet  one  full  of  interest  to  the  lover  of  ma- 
rine views.  The  Old  Sailor  was  sitting,  as  usual,  at 
the  end  of  the  pier,  gazing  out  to  sea,  as  if  his  vision 
by  mere  force  of  steadiness  could  penetrate  fog  or 
rain  and  discover  what  lay  beyond.  The  two  boys, 
clad  in  rubber  boots  and  coats,  came  down  the  pier 
quietly,  for  they  were  more  than  half  afraid  that 


THE    UNSINKABLE    PILOT-BOAT  167 

their  friend  might  at  any  moment  rise  and  depart, 
owing  to  the  wetness  of  the  weather.  But  the  Old 
Sailor  sat  and  smoked,  and  paid  no  attention  to  the 
elements.  The  boys  went  and  sat  down  beside  him, 
and  he  acted  as  if  he  were  unaware  of  their  presence  ; 
but  they  were  so  well  acquainted  with  his  peculiari- 
ties that  they  simply  sat  still  and  waited.  Presently 
a  schooner  emerged  from  a  fog  -  bank,  and,  rolling 
quickly  on  the  swells,  stood  in  towards  the  shore. 

"  An'  wot  kind  o'  a  wessel  mought  that  be  ?"  asked 
the  Old  Sailor,  without  turning  his  head. 

"  A  pilot-boat,"  answered  both  boys,  promptly. 

"An'  how  d'  ye  know  she  are  a  pilot-boat ?" 

"By  the  number  painted  on  her  main-sail,"  an- 
swered Henry. 

"  Werry  good,  too.  Wich  the  same  she  are  a- 
headin'  fur  the  beach  like  as  ef  she  wos  a-goin'  fur 
to  run  ashore." 

"But  she  won't,  will  she?"  asked  George. 

"  I  reckon  not,"  said  the  Old  Sailor ;  "  but  I  don't 
preesume  that  it  would  do  her  so  werry  much  dara- 
idge  ef  she  did." 

"  Why  not  ?"  inquired  Henry. 

"  Cos  w'y,"  replied  the  Old  Sailor,  "  you  can't  do 
much  damidge  to  them  'ere  boats.  There  ain't  no 
safer  craft  a-floatin'  on  to  the  surface  o'  that  'ere  mill- 
pond  out  yender.  Wy,  ye  can't  sink  'em." 

"  Can't  sink  them  ?"  repeated  Henry. 

"  In  course  not.     I  seen  it  tried." 

"  When  ?" 


168  SEA    YARNS    FOE   BOYS 

"  Waal,  ye  may  tie  my  feet  'round  my  neck  an' 
make  a  human  grommet  out  o'  me  ef  this  'ere  ain't 
the  werry  identical  way  wot  it  happened  :  I  were 
a-knockin'  aroun'  Noo  Yawk  one  fall  without  no 
berth,  an'  I  beginned  fur  to  get  putty  hungry.  So 
sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  I  guess  I'd  better  ship  on  the 
fust  thing  as  comes  along.  I  were  a-walkin'  along 
the  East  River  at  the  time  an'  I  seed  a  pilot-boat 
a-layin'  alongside  o'  a  pier.  To  make  this  'ere  yarn 
wot  I'm  a-tellin'  you  short,  I  shipped  aboard  her  as 
a  foremast  hand.  Her  name  were  the  Sam  an"1  Sally, 
No.  22-|-.  Waal,  nothin'  werry  pertikler  happened 
ontil  winter  weather  come  on,  an'  then  we  had  the 
time  wot  I'm  a-goin'  fur  to  tell  you  about.  The 
weather  come  on  so  cold  that  the  spray  used  to 
freeze  in  the  air  as  it  come  over  the  bows  an'  fall 
on  to  the  deck  in  small  chunks  o'  ice  like  hailstuns. 
Then  it  begins  fur  to  blow  putty  fresh,  an'  our  hull 
begins  to  ice  up.  It  weren't  more'n  twenty-four 
hours  afore  we  had  a  casin'  o'  ice  all  'round  us 
about  two  inches  thick.  Meanwhile  the  riggin'  were 
gittin'  wet  an'  freezin'  harder'n  iron,  so  that  w'en 
the  order  come  fur  to  put  the  second  reef  into  the 
main-s'l,  w'y,  ye  couldn't  do  anything  at  all  with 
the  bloomin'  thing.  The  halyards  wouldn't  render 
thro'  the  blocks,  'cos  w'y,  they  wos  frozen  like  ram- 
rods. An'  the  reef-p'ints  wos  as  solid  as  kitchen 
pokers,  an'  jess  about  as  easy  fur  to  bend.  So  ole 
Pete  Murphy,  the  boss  pilot,  he  sez,  sez  he,  '  Let  her 
go,  an'  see  wot  she'll  do.'  Waal,  she  heeled  over 


THE    UNSINKABLE   PILOT-BOAT  169 

like  one  o'  them  slantin'-backed  rockin'-cheers  wot 
your  ma  has,  an'  she  shoved  her  nose  into  it  mos' 
ridiklous.  I  sez  to  Pete  Murphy,  sez  I,  '  Cap,  this 
'ere  schooner  are  a-gittin'  werry  much  down  by  the 
head  on  account  o'  the  weight  o'  ice  forrard.'  You 
see,  the  ice  on  her  bows  were  now  a  good  six  inches 
thick,  but  Pete  didn't  say  nothin' ;  'cos  w'y,  there 
wa'n't  nothin'  to  say, 

"  Waal,  that  night,  about  midnight,  w'en  it  were 
a-snowin'  so  hard  that  we  had  to  keep  two  hands 
a-shovellin'  it  off  the  cabin  skylights  fur  fear  it  'd 
break  'em  thro',  the  lookout  sights  a-  steamer,  an' 
the  nex'  minute  she  comes  on  into  us  ca-slap,  bang, 
crash  !  Fortunately  the  man  forrard,  as  soon  as  he 
hollered,  jumped  below  an'  pulled  the  fore -hatch 
shut.  The  nex'  second  we  wos  all  a-standin'  on  to 
our  heads  an'  bein'  fired  around  the  inside  o'  the  boat 
like  there  were  a  'arthquack.  Pete  Murphy,  wot 
were  a-steerin'  o'  the  boat,  we  1'arned  arterwards, 
were  picked  up  by  the  steamer,  an'  piloted  her  into 
port.  Wich  the  same  it  were  werry  good ;  'cos  w'y, 
he  got  his  fee  an'  a  purse  from  the  passingers,  wot 
s'posed  the  rest  o'  us  an'  the  boat  was  gone  to  Davy 
Jones's  locker. 

"  Waal,  I  wish  you  could  'a'  seed  the  mix-up  in 
that  'ere  boat.  There  were  Bill  Smock's  rubber 
boots  in  the  cabin  skylight  along  with  a  bag  o' 
'baccy  an'  Sain  Sanders's  Sunday  shirt ;  an'  it  wa'n't 
much  o'  a  shirt  arter  that.  I  might  also  mention 
that  Sam  hisself  were  standin'  on  his  head  in  a  cor- 


170  SEA   YAKNS    FOB   BOYS 

ner  on  to  Bill's  plug-hat,  w'ich  the  same  it  looked 
werry  much  like  a  accordeen.  An'  Bill  were  lookin' 
werry  ord'nary,  too.  Hiram  Pettybone,  one  o'  the 
best  pilots  on  'arth  or  water,  had  fell  with  his  head 
thro'  the  basin  hole  in  a  wash-stand,  an'  he  were 
a-hollerin'  murder  all  he  could.  Pussonally,  I  were 
in  my  bunk — that  is,  I  were  a-lyin'  ag'in'  the  deck 
over  the  same.  We  all  made  up  our  minds  that  we 
wos  a-goin'  to  the  bottom,  so  we  hadn't  much  to  say, 
'cept  Hiram,  an'  he  kep'  right  on  hollerin'.  How- 
sumever,  arter  waitin'  some  time,  an'  findin'  we  didn't 
go  down,  we  all  commenced  fur  to  pull  ourselves  to- 
gether an'  wonder  wot  were  to  be  did.  It  didn't 
take  long  fur  to  answer  that  'ere  question.  We 
could  feel  the  wessel  jumpin'  like  a  porpoise,  an'  the 
seas  were  a-breakin'  over  her  deck — I  mean  her  bot- 
tom— with  a  roar  like  thunder.  Bill  an'  Hiram  they 
jess  looked  at  each  other,  an'  'lowed  that  there  wa'n't 
nothin'  to  be  did.  We  hadn't  much  more'n  come  to 
that  kinclusion  w'en  a  tremenjous  sea  come  an'  rolled 
the  boat  right  over  on  to  her  beam-ends.  We  wos  all 
chucked  about  permiscus  like  agin,  but  Sam  Sanders 
he  yells  out : 

" '  Gee-whiz  !  I  hope  there'll  be  another.' 
"  An'  sure  'nuff  there  were,  an'  it  set  the  boat  right 
smack  upon  her  keel  agin.  We  all  jumped  to  open 
the  hatches,  an'  we  wos  on  deck  mighty  quick. 
Waal,  blow  me  for  pickles,  wot  d'  ye  s'pose  had  hap- 
pened ?" 

"  What  ?"  asked  both  boys. 


THE    UNSINKABLE    PILOT-BOAT  171 

"  W'y,  that  steamer  a-hittin'  us  had  knocked  all 
the  ice  off  us  forrard,  an'  we  wos  as  clean  as  a  whistle 
agin.  But,  my  land  sakes  alive,  how  it  were  a-blow- 
in' !  W'y,  the  seas  wos  a-runnin'  fully  forty  feet 
high,  an'  the  rollin'  an'  pitchin'  o'  the  boat  wos 
enough  fur  to  set  you  dizzy.  The  fust  thing  to  be 
did  were  to  get  her  canvas  rejuced.  By  good-luck 
we  wos  right  in  the  Gulf  Sti'eam  w'en  we  wos  turned 
over,  so  the  water  were  warm  enough  fur  to  melt 
the  ice  in  the  runnin'  riggin',  an'  we  wos  able  to  low- 
er away  an'  reef  the  sails  —  that  is,  we  reefed  the 
mains'l.  The  fores'l  blowed  right  out  o'  the  bolt- 
ropes  afore  we  could  git  to  't,  an'  w'en  Bill  sings 
out  to  me,  '  Lower  away  the  fores'l,'  all  as  I  could 
do  were  to  sing  back,  'Ain't  no  fores'l  to  lower.' 
Howsumever,  she  did  fust-rate  under  a  close-reefed 
mains'l  an'  a  storm-jib.  But  there  wa'n't  no  way 
o'  keepin'  the  water  out  o'  her  now ;  'cos  w'y,  some 
o'  the  deck  seams  had  got  started  w'en  the  steamer 
run  over  us,  an'  the  seas  wos  a-breakin'  clean  over 
her,  an'  so  the  water  kep'  a-flowin'  right  into  her. 
We  manned  the  pumps,  but  it  didn't  do  no  good. 
The  water  gained  on  us  all  the  time. 

"  Waal,  'bout  six  hours  later  the  mains'l  blowed 
out,  an'  we  had  to  set  the  storm-trys'l.  The  pitchin' 
an'  rollin'  wos  now  past  all  sense.  W'y,  she'd  stand 
up  so  straight  sometimes  that  the  water  inside  o' 
her  'd  pour  out  o'  the  cabin  companion-way  in  such  a 
stream  that  it  nearly  washed  Bill  Smock  overboard. 
An'  then  she'd  pitch  down  head-fust,  an'  that  wa- 


172  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

ter  'd  go  rippin'  an'  tearin'  f orrard  so  fast  that  steam 
'd  come  out  o'  the  deck  seams.  One  time  we  was 
all  afeard  that  the  friction  o'  that  water  'd  set  her 
afire,  but  Sam  Sanders  he  sez,  sez  he,  the  water  'd 
put  the  fire  out  as  fast  as  it  'd  make  it.  Towards 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  she  give  a  fearful  lurch 
over  to  port,  an'  then  jerked  back  so  hard  to  star- 
board that  she  rolled  both  her  masts  right  out,  an' 
of  course  they  took  the  bowsprit  with  'em.  There 
we  wos,  a  dismasted  an'  waterlogged  hulk  in  a  hur- 
ricane. 

" '  Waal,  by  the  great  hook  block  !'  sez  Hiram 
Pettybone,  '  ef  this  wa'n't  so  blamed  comic,  it  'd 
be  gettin'  ser'ous.' 

" '  We  got  to  let  her  scud  now,'  sez  Bill  Smock, 
sez  he. 

"  So  we  ups  helm  an'  lets  her  fall  off  till  she  got 
right  afore  it.  Waal,  my  goodness,  how  she  did  run ! 
She  went  so  fast  that  the  water  along  her  sides  were 
all  lit  up  with  the  phosphorus  ;  an'  the  water  inside 
o'  her  couldn't  keep  up  with  her,  but  kep'  gittin'  lef ' 
behind,  so  that  it  poured  out  o'  the  cabin  hatch  an' 
ran  overboard.  D'  ye  know,  I've  orfen  thort  sence 
that  were  wot  kep'  her  from  sinkin'.  Annyhow,  she 
kep'  a-goin'  like  a  streak  o'  greased  lightnin'.  Then 
it  come  on  to  snow  agin,  an'  she  beginned  fur  to  ice 
up  f  orrard  some  more.  Sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I:  'This 
settles  it.  She  can't  float  ef  she  gets  iced  up  agin.' 
Her  head  kep'  a-gittin'  lower  an'  lower,  so  that  w'en 
Bill  Smock  looked  at  it  he  putty  nigh  shook  his  head 


"'KF  THIS  WEREN'T  so  BLAMED  COMIC,  IT  'D  BE  GKTTIN'  SER'OUS '" 


THE    UNSINKABLE   PILOT-BOAT  173 

off.  Howsumever,  as  I  said  afore,  ye  can't  sink  them 
there  bloomin'  pilot-boats.  Our  boat  were  a-tearin' 
along  thro'  the  blindin'  snow-storm,  a-jumpin'  an' 
poundin'  over  the  dreadful  seas,  w'en  all  on  a  sud- 
dent  there  were  a  frightful  crash  forrard,  an'  she 
heeled  over  on  her  beam-ends  agin.  Wot  ever  d'  ye 
s'pose  had  happened  ?" 

"  What  ?"  asked  the  boys,  breathlessly. 

"  W'y,  she'd  run  plump  ca-bang  bow  on  into  a 
iceberg." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused  a  moment  to  note  the  ef- 
fect of  this  last  statement,  and  then  continued,  im- 
pressively : 

"I  sez  to  myself,  sez  I,  this  are  the  end  o'  the 
whole  business.  But,  bless  ye,  here  I  are  a-tellin' 
you  about  it,  an'  that  are  putty  good  proof  that  I 
weren't  drownded.  Ye  see,  she'd  gone  an'  run  her 
nose  up  on  a  part  o'  the  berg  wot  were  under  water, 
an'  there  she  were  stuck.  Then  Bill  Smock  sez  he 
to  me,  sez  he,  'Go  b'low  an'  see  ef  ye  kin  find  any- 
thing fur  to  eat.'  So  I  went  down,  an'  blow  me  fur 
pickles  ef  I  didn't  have  to  swim,  the  water  inside  o' 
her  were  so  deep.  I  reckon  it  must  'a'  bin  a  comic 
sight  to  see  me  a-swimmin'  round  an'  round  grabbin' 
at  boxes  o'  bread  an'  pickles  an'  things  wot  was 
a-floatin'  about.  Howsumever,  we  got  'nuff  to  keep 
us  alive,  an'  that  were  all  we  wanted.  Waal,  the 
nex'  day  the  gale  broke,  an'  we  had  nice  weather. 
We  got  right  to  work  patchin'  up  the  hole  in  her 
bows  made  by  runnin'  ag'in'  the  iceberg,  an'  also  put- 


174  SEA   YAEXS    FOR   BOYS 

tin'  a  jury-rig  on  her,  so's  to  keep  her  goin'  w'en  we 
got  her  afloat  agin.  We  was  putty  much  puzzled 
about  gettin'  her  off,  but  good-luck  saved  us  a  heap 
o'  trouble." 

"  How  was  that  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  "VV'y,  the  warm  water  melted  the  ice  out  from 
under  her,  an'  she  floated  off  herself.  Then  we  got 
her  under  way  under  the  jury-rig,  an'  that  very  hour 
we  sighted  a  steamer.  But,  d'  ye  know,  the  bloomin' 
lubber  wouldn't  let  us  put  no  pilot  aboard.  Yes,  sir  ; 
she  said  we  wosn't  no  pilot-boat,  but  a  dirilick  wes- 
sel  manned  by  wrackers.  An'  so  we  had  to  sail  our 
boat  back  to  port  with  all  hands  aboard.  But,  bless 
ye,  ye  couldn't  sink  her  !" 


THE  PEACEFUL  PIEATES 

"  IT  aren't  a  werry  good  day  fur  yarns,"  said  the 
Old  Sailor. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Henry,  not  understanding  how 
one  day  could  be  more  favorable  than  another  for  the 
exercise  of  the  gentle  craft  of  spinning  "  twisters." 

"  'Cos  the  wind  are  nor'east/'  was  the  reply. 

"  And  what  difference  does  that  make  ?" 

"  It  makes  the  difference  'tween  rheumatism  an' 
no  rheumatism,  an'  w'en  you  has  rheumatism  in  your 
leg,  your  head  are  not  werry  partikler  about  remem- 
berin'  anything  'ceptin'  words  wot  ort  not  to  be  said 
to  a  boy." 

"  Oh !"  exclaimed  Henry  ;  and  then  he  added, 
thoughtfully,  "My  mother  has  a  liniment  which 
will  stop  any  ache  that  ever  was." 

"  Does  ye  think  as  how  she'd  go  fur  to  give  some 
on  't  to  an  old  sailor-man  ?" 

"  I'm  sure  she  would." 

So  they  went  to  the  house,  where  the  painful  limb 
was  duly  rubbed  with  the  liniment,  and  the  Old 
Sailor  was  seated  in  a  big  wooden  arm-chair  before 
the  kitchen  fire.  There  he  gradually  thawed  out, 
and  suddenly  began  thus : 


176  SEA    YARNS   FOK   BOYS 

"Pirates  is  not  no  good  nohow  you  find  'era." 

"  Pirates !"  exclaimed  the  two  boys,  eagerly  ;  "did 
you  ever  meet  them  ?" 

"  I've  met  everything  wot  floats,  an'  pirates  floats, 
'cos  w'en  they  is  on  land  we  calls  'em  land-sharks. 
But  that  ain't  neither  here  nor  there.  Wot  I  war 
a-goin'  fur  to  say  to  you  air  that  pirates  ain't  no  good, 
not  even  w'en  they  is  gentlemen." 

"  How  can  a  pirate  be  a  gentleman  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Oh,  it  ain't  no  werry  hard  thing  to  be  a  gentle- 
man," said  the  Old  Sailor.  "  Leastways  I  'ain't  nev- 
er seed  no  gentleman  wot  seemed  to  find  it  werry 
hard  work.  But,  howsumever,  moralizin'  won't  tell 
a  yarn.  Wen  I  war  fust-mate  o'  the  ship  Firebug, 
bound  from  Boston  to  Calcutta,  with  a  cargo  o' 
hymn-books  an'  beans,  I  war  about  as  well  satis- 
fied with  my  berth  as  ever  any  man  could  be  wot 
had  to  work  at  all.  She  war  a  big,  wall -sided 
hooker,  were  the  Firebug,  an'  she  carried  a  extry 
large  crew,  'cos  the  owners  wos  smart  enough  to 
believe  that  she  could  make  quicker  passages  if  she 
wos  well  manned.  Well,  we  got  under  way,  and 
passed  Minot's  Ledge  with  a  fine  to'gallant  breeze 
from  the  south'ard  an'  west'ard,  all  on  a  beautiful 
October  mornin',  an'  we  sings, 


"  'Good-bye,  my  Sally, 

An'  good-bye,  my  Mary  Jane, 
An'  likewise  Kate  an'  Molly, 
Till  we  sees  you  all  again.' 


THE  PEACEFUL  PIRATES  177 

"I  ain't  a-goin'  fur  to  waste  your  time  an'  mine 
a-tellin'  you  how  we  got  around  Cape  Cod,  or  how 
we  passed  within  a  cable's  length  o'  St.  Paul's  Rocks, 
w'ich  the  same  lays  putty  nigh  on  to  the  equator. 
All  in  good  time  we  weathered  the  Cape  o'  Good 
Hope,  an'  got  square  up  into  the  Injun  Ocean. 
Nothin'  excitin'  had  happened  to  us  up  to  that  time, 
'ceptin'  a  small  gale  o'  wind,  w'ich  the  same  didn't 
do  no  damage  more'n  to  blow  away  the  cook's  apron. 
It  war  a  mean  sort  o'  day  now.  The  wind  war 
all  in  slants.  Sometimes  it  'd  blow  from  the  west, 
an'  sometimes  from  the  south,  an'  sometimes  it  'd 
come  in  dead  ahead  an'  take  us  all  aback.  It  war 
my  watch  on  deck,  an'  I  wa'n't  in  no  werry  good- 
humor.  All  on  a  suddent  the  lookout  sings  out, 
'  Sail  ho !'  Wen  I  axed  him  about  it,  he  said  it 
war  dead  ahead,  an'  about  ten  mile  off.  I  didn't 
think  nothin'  more  about  it  till,  an  hour  later,  I  no- 
ticed a  werry  smart -lookiri'  tops'l  schooner  about 
four  mile  away,  an'  comin'  down  on  us  with  a  fa- 
vorin'  slant  o'  wind.  I  watched  her  fur  a  time,  an' 
made  up  my  mind  that  she  war  a-goin'  fur  to  come 
within  hailin'  distance.  Wen  she  got  near  enough 
I  brought  my  glass  to  bear  on  her  to  make  out  her 
colors.  I  couldn't  find  no  flag  'ceptin'  at  the  fore, 
an'  there  she  carried  a  blue  dove  with  a  green  branch 
in  his  mouth  on  a  white  field.  That  would  'a'  bin  a 
good  flag  fur  Noah  or  a  peace  society,  but  I  couldn't 
make  out  w'y  a  tops'l  schooner  should  'a'  bin  a-car- 

ryin'  of  it  in  the  Injun  Ocean.     It  made  me  think 
12 


178  SEA    YARNS    FOB    BOYS 

about  a  Christmas  celebration  wot  I  once  seed — 
Howsuraever,  that  ain't  got  nawthin'  to  do  with  this 
'ere  yarn  wot  I'm  a-itellin'  ye. 

"  Well,"  continued  the  Old  Sailor,  "  the  schooner 
comes  a-sort  o'  driftin'  down,  an'  byme-by  I  seed 
that  she  carried  several  guns.  So  I  sent  word  down 
to  the  cap'n,  an'  he  comes  on  deck  an'  takes  a  good 
squint  at  her.  Sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  There's  some- 
thin'  about  the  lines  o'  that  craft  I  don't  like,  an'  I 
wish  we  had  a  gale  o'  wind  behind  us.'  An'  sez  I 
to  him,  sez  I,  '  Wot  do  ye  make  o'  her  ?'  An'  sez 
he,  *  Pirates!'  jess  like  that,  him  bein'  cap'n  o'  the 
ship  an'  me  fust-mate.  Howsumever,  it  wa'n't  no 
use  o'  doin'  anything,  'cos  we  couldn't.  All  we  could 
do  was  to  'wait  dewelopments,  as  the  hen  said  w'en 
she  sot  down  on  the  eggs.  It  war  dead  calm,  an' 
all  that  war  bringin'  the  two  wessels  closer  war  that 
queer  kind  o'  driftin'  wot  allers  do  bring  two  wessels 
closer  together  in  a  calm.  Byme-by  she  war  within 
hailin'  distance,  an'  then  we  got  a  ginuine  surprise." 

"  Did  they  send  a  shot  across  your  bows  and  order 
you  to  heave  to  ?"  asked  Henry,  excitedly. 

"  No,"  answered  the  Old  Sailor,  gravely.  "  That's 
the  way  they  does  in  the  story-books.  No;  the 
skipper  o'  that  'ere  craft  appeared  on  the  fo'c's'le 
an'  hailed  us,  sayin',  '  Good-mornin',  gentlemen,  it 
are  a  fine  day.'  Well,  we  couldn't  hardly  speak  at 
fust.  'Cos  w'y  ?  Nobody  never  seed  such  a  skipper 
afore.  He  had  on  a  silk  hat  an'  a  Prince  Albert 
coat,  a  high  collar  an'  a  red  necktie  with  a  diamond 


THE    PEACEFUL    PIRATES  179 

pin  in  it,  a  pair  o'  black-an'-wbite  check  pants,  patent- 
leather  shoes,  an'  kid  gloves ;  an'  blow  me  fur  pickles 
ef  he  didn't  carry  a  cane." 

The  Old  Sailor  paused,  and  studied  the  astonish- 
ment depicted  on  the  faces  of  the  two  boys. 

"  You  look  s'prised  at  hearin'  about  it.  Wot  d'  ye 
think  we  did,  a-seein'  of  it  ?  Well,  the  cap'n  he 
finally  mustered  up  sense  enough  to  answer  that  it 
war  a  fine  mornin'  fur  driftin'.  'Yes,'  answered 
the  other  skipper,  pleasant  as  a  watermelon,  '  we're 
werry  good  at  driftin'  ourselves.  Wot  ship  are 
that  ?'  An'  the  cap'n  told  him,  an'  axed  him  in  turn 
who  he  wos.  '  Oh,'  he  says,  smilin', '  you'll  be  better 
acquainted  with  us  in  a  few  minutes.  We're 
a-comin'  aboard  you.'  '  Not  ef  I  knows  it,'  said 
the  cap'n.  '  Keep  off.'  '  Oh,  really,'  says  the  dude 
cap'n,  'you  aren't  goin'  to  resist,  are  you?'  'In 
course,'  says  our  cap'n.  '  Oh,  please  don't,'  says  the 
other.  '  Don't  force  us  to  usin'  harsh  measures.' 
An'  with  that  he  tapped  kind  o'  thortf  ul  with  his 
cane  on  a  cannon.  Our  cap'n  shook  his  head,  an'  sez 
he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  Wot  'd  I  tell  ye  ?  Pirates,  o' 
course.'  Then  the  pirate  cap'n  he  says  :  '  We're 
peaceful  pirates,  an'  we  don't  like  fightin'  at  all. 
We  never  shed  no  blood  onless  some  bloody-minded 
sailor-man  drives  us  to  't.  We're  a-comin'  aboard 
you  in  a  werry  few  minutes  fur  to  see  wot  you  got.' 
That's  wot  he  sez,  sez  he,  him  a-standin'  there  on 
the  rail  over  the  gun,  a-lookin'  fur  all  the  world  like 
the  srailin'  willun  in  a  drayraa. 


180  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

"  Well,  in  a  few  minutes  there  come  a  breath  o' 
air  that  brought  the  two  wessels  together,  an'  then 
fur  the  fust  time  we  seed  some  o'  the  pirate  crew, 
fur  they  jumped  on  the  rail  to  throw  grapplin'- 
irons.  Blessed  ef  I  ever  seed  sech  a  bloomin'  lot  o' 
dudes  in  all  my  life.  It  were  like  bein'  run  aboard 
of  by  Fifth  Avnoo  or  Pickledilly.  Them  there 
pirates  wos  all  togged  out  in  swell  clothes,  an'  the 
fust-mate  wore  a  single  eye-glass.  An'  they  wos  all 
nice  lookin'.  They  didn't  look  like  ferocious  pirates 
at  all.  They  looked  like  collidge  stujents.  Well, 
we  jess  couldn't  say  a  bloomin'  word.  All  we  could 
do  was  to  stand  still  an'  hold  our  breath.  To  be 
sure  w'en  their  fust -mate  come  jumpin'  down  on 
our  deck,  I  did  grab  a  belayin'-pin  an'  make  a 
move;  but  he  smiles  at  me  werry  sweet,  sticks  a 
little  gold-mounted  rewolwer  under  my  nose,  an'  sez 
he  to  me,  sez  he,  'I  never  pulled  the  trigger  o'  this 
yet,  an'  I  beg  that  you'll  not  compel  me  to  do  so.' 
Well,  I  war  all  knocked  silly,  an'  couldn't  say 
nothin.'  The  pirate  cap'n  he  axes  our  cap'n  wot 
were  the  cargo,  an'  hearin'  wot  it  war  he  laughs 
an'  says  :  '  Oh,  indeed !  we  really  couldn't  make 
much  use  o'  hymn-books  'cos  we  give  up  sich  habits 
years  ago.  We'll  borrow  a  few  beans,  Avith  your 
permission.  An'  I  think  as  how  we  could  make 
some  use  o'  you  an'  your  men,  an'  also  your  ship.' 
Well,  boys,  our  hearts  went  down  into  our  boots 
then,  'cos  we  smelt  slavery  in  the  air.  I  knowed 
there  wos  some  business  o'  sellin'  white  men  to  some 


THE    PEACEFUL   PIKATES  181 

o'  the  savage  tribes  on  the  east  coast  o'  Af  rikee,  an' 
I  guessed  that  were  the  line  o'  business  o'  this  'ere 
pirate  dude  an'  his  crew.  The  pirate  cap'n  counted 
our  crew,  an'  he  says :  '  There's  too  many  o'  you  fur 
me  to  accommodate  aboard  o'  my  ship,  so  I'll  keep 
you  aboard  here.  But  I'll  put  half  o'  you  in  irons 
below,  an*  let  the  other  half  help  work  the  ship. 
An'  not  bein'  given  to  cruelty,  I'll  let  the  halves 
change  places  every  two  days.'  ' 

The  Old  Sailor  paused  in  his  narrative  long 
enough  to  note  its  effect  on  the  two  boys.  They 
were  apparently  impressed  sufficiently  to  please 
him,  so  he  continued : 

"As  soon  as  the  pirate  cap'n  had  everything  fixed 
to  suit  him,  he  gave  the  orders  to  get  under  way, 
an'  a  small  bit  o'  a  breeze  havin'  sprung  up  from 
the  nor'ard,  off  we  goes  east-sou'east.  Our  cap'n 
war  not  acquainted  with  any  land  in  that  direction, 
an'  I'll  say  right  here  that  there  ain't  none  on  any 
chart.  Howsumever,  arter  an  easy  sail  o'  thirty 
hours  we  sighted  land,  an'  in  two  hours  an'  a  half 
we  wos  at  anchor  in  a  werry  neat  bay  on  the  south- 
erly side  o'  a  small  island.  The  pirate  cap'n  now 
told  us  that  we  wos  at  his  home,  an'  he  inwited  us 
all  to  go  ashore.  Our  cap'n  an'  me  we  kind  o'  de- 
bated whether  we  shouldn't  make  a  stand.  'Cos 
w'y?  We  knowed  ef  we  ever  left  our  ship  we'd 
never  git  back  to  her.  But  the  pirate  cap'n  smellcd 
a  mouse,  an'  he  sez  somethin'  to  his  men,  an'  they 
all  drawee!  gold  an'  silver  mounted  rewolwers  an' 


182  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

p'inted  'em  at  us.  '  Gentlemen,'  sez  the  pirate  cap'n, 
'  please  to  go  quiet,  'cos  this  time  o'  day  my  wife 
allers  takes  a  nap,  an'  ef  we  wos  to  shoot  the  noise 
'd  wake  her  up.' 

"  Well,  arter  them  remarks,  our  nateral  concloo- 
sion  were  that  we  wos  too  bloomin'  peril te  fur  to 
go  fur  to  disturb  a  lady.  So  we  Avent  ashore,  an' 
there  we  wos.  The  pirate  cap'n  diwided  us  up  into 
squads  an'  sent  us  off  under  charge  o'  wai'ious  pus- 
sons,  all  'ceptin'  our  cap'n  an'  me.  We  wos  took  to 
his  own  house,  w'ich  the  same  wos  'most  too  sweet. 
W'y,  the  blessed  pirate  had  a  Axminster  carpet  on 
his  parlor  floor,  a  white  upright  pianny,  an'  lace  cur- 
tains at  the  winders  tied  back  with  white  ribbons. 
An'  his  wife  war  a  putty  little  lady  Avith  yaller 
hair  an'  blue  eyes  an'  diamond  rings.  An'  she  war 
a-sittin'  at  the  pianny  singin',  '  O  come  to  me,  my 
love,'  w'en  we  Avalks  in.  She  jumped  up,  an'  sez  she, 
1  Why,  Willie,  you  got  back  real  soon  this  time.' 
An'  he  smiled,  an'  sez  he  to  her,  sez  he,  '  Yes,  an' 
I've  got  some  gentlemen.'  She  smiled  an'  boAved 
an'  ran  out  o'  the  room.  The  pirate,  arter  axin'  us 
to  sit  down,  sez  to  us,  '  Gentlemen,  by  this  time  you 
ought  to  know  my  name.  It  are  William  Quigg, 
but  I  are  generally  knowed  as  Peaceful  Willie,  the 
Daring  Dove  o'  the  Injun  Ocean.  I'm  goin'  to  have 
my  history  writ  an'  published  under  that  title  as 
soon  as  I  kin  indooce  some  litei'ary  gent  to  Avisit 
me.'  Then  he  went  on  to  tell  us  that  he  perposed 
to  make  the  cap'n  his  body-servant  an'  me  a  sort  o' 


THE    PEACEFUL    PIRATES  183 

useful  head  man  around  the  house.  He  said  I  could 
boss  the  servants,  an'  I  needn't  be  afraid  o'  their 
leavin'.  He  got  'em  the  same  way  he  did  us.  They 
came  along  peaceful,  he  said,  jess  as  we  did.  In 
fact,  it  were  the  boast  o'  his  life  that  he  hadn't  ever 
killed  any  one  or  even  wounded  one.  '  We've  never 
fired  a  gun  from  our  ship,'  sez  he  to  us,  sez  he,  jess 
like  that,  him  bein'  a  pirate  an'  we  honest  sailor- 
men  in  captivity.  He  went  on  to  explain  to  our 
cap'n  that  a  part  o'  his  dooties  would  be  readin'  to 
his  new  employer  in  the  evenin's  w'en  he  were  at 
home.  He  showed  us  his  library,  w'ich  were  full  o' 
sich  books  as,  Gettiri  Everything  in  the.  World,  How 
to  be  Happy  on  a  Million  a  Year,  Get  and  Gather, 
or  Young  Harlowe's  Pluck,  The  Golden  Harvest,  an' 
the  Poems  o'  Martin  F.  Tapper.  I  rubbed  my  eyes 
an'  thort  I'd  got  into  a  Sunday-school  library  by 
mistake. 

"  The  cap'n  an'  me  we  didn't  git  no  chance  fur  to 
talk  together  fur  two  or  three  days,  an'  then  we  got 
a  half-hour.  We  spent  a  fair  ten  minutes  a-wonder- 
in'  at  the  sort  o'  pirates  we'd  got  took  by.  Then 
the  cap'n  sez  he  to  me,  sez  he,  '  We  got  to  escape 
somehow.'  An'  sez  I  to  him,  sez  I,  *  Wot's  the  rea- 
son we  can't  get  aboard  their  schooner  some  dark 
night  with  our  men  an'  run  away  with  her?  She's 
armed,  an'  ef  they  wos  to  follow  us  in  our  ship  we 
could  capture  her  an'  carry  both  wessels  an'  the 
whole  pirate  crew  into  Calcutta.'  The  cap'n  agreed 
that  it  were  the  right  plan,  an'  so  we  set  to  work  to 


184  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

look  fur  chances  to  let  our  men  know  about  it. 
Well,  it  were  a  week  afore  we  got  our  plan  all  fixed, 
an'  then  we  had  to  wait  fur  a  dark  night  with  a 
favorable  wind.  The  signal  were  to  be  the  playin' 
o'  'Home,  Sweet  Home'  on  the  cap'n's  flute,  w'ich 
the  same  he  had  been  allowed  to  bring  ashore  with 
him.  Arter  a  few  days  the  right  kind  o'  a  night 
come  along  an'  the  tune  were  played.  In  half  an 
hour  all  our  men  wos  on  the  beach,  havin'  sneaked 
away  from  the  peaceful  pirates  wot  wos  jess  a-goin' 
to  sleep.  We  got  off  in  a  boat  an'  boarded  the  pi- 
rate schooner  w'ere  one  man  war  doin'  dooty  as  a 
anchor -watch.  We  put  him  in  the  boat,  an'  told 
him  to  git  out.  But  of  course  he  begin'd  to  holler 
an'  raise  an  alarm.  Afore  we  could  git  the  schooner 
a-movin'  off,  Peaceful  Willie  an'  a  gang  o'  his  dudes 
comes  alongside.  '  Gentlemen,  gentlemen,'  sez  he  to 
we,  sez  he, '  wot  are  ye  tryin'  to  do  ?  You  wouldn't 
go  fur  to  leave  us  in  this  'ere  ongrateful  way,  would 
you  ?'  '  Yes,  we  jess  would,'  sez  our  cap'n,  sez  he. 
'Keep  off.  I've  got  men  at  the  guns  an'  others 
armed  with  your  rewolwers,  an'  ef  ye  try  to  come 
aboard  we'll  blow  ye  into  smithereens.'  At  that 
Peaceful  Willie  an'  his  men  all  laffed.  I  got  so 
mad  I  yanked  the  lanyard  o'  a  gun,  but  I  jess  broke 
the  string.  I  jumped  to  see  wot  were  the  matter  o' 
the  gun,  an'  wot  d'  ye  think  ?" 

"  What  ?"  cried  both  boys. 

"Them  there  guns  wos  wooden  dummies!  An' 
w'en  I  tried  to  pull  the  trigger  o'  a  rewolwer,  it  jess 


THE    PEACEFUL    PIRATES  185 

sprung  out  a  red  fan.  Wy,  the  bloomin'  schooner 
were  as  peaceful  as  a  suckin'  dove." 

"And  so  they  boarded  and  took  you  back,"  said 
Henry,  disappointed. 

"Not  much,"  exclaimed  the  Old  Sailor.  "We 
had  the  anchor  up  by  that  time  an'  some  canvas  on 
her,  an'  she  gathered  way.  'Get  out!'  yells  our 
cap'n,  *  or  I'll  run  ye  down  an'  sink  ye.'  '  Oh,'  sez 
Peaceful  Willie,  '  you  wouldn't  do  that,  would  ye, 
to  a  pirate  wot  never  hurt  no  one  ?'  '  Yes,  sir,'  sez 
our  cap'n.  '  Then  we  surrender,'  sez  Peaceful  Wil- 
lie. 'There  sha'n't  never  be  no  bloodshed  in  my 
history.'  So  we  took  the  whole  kit  an'  crew  aboard, 
incloodin'  Peaceful  Willie's  wife,  an'  we  set  sail 
with  both  ships  fur  Calcutta.  There  we  turned  the 
Peaceful  Pirates  over  to  the  police,  who  said  they'd 
been  the  scourge  o'  them  seas  fur  five  years." 

"Well,"  said  Henry,  "the  captains  of  the  ships 
they  had  captured  must,  have  been  easily  fright- 
ened." 

"  That  werry  same  idee  has  occurred  to  me,"  said 
the  Old  Sailor,  eagerly  nodding  his  head. 


THE   QUEENDOM   OF   GIRLICA 

THE  Old  Sailor  sat  looking  out  over  the  sea  with 
a  peculiarly  pensive  expression  on  his  countenance. 
The  two  boys  sat  beside  him  gazing  at  him  with 
deep  anxiety.  He  had  just  made  an  astounding 
declaration,  and  it  had  filled  his  two  young  friends 
with  mingled  excitement  and  sorrow. 

"  Wot  'd  you  say,"  he  had  asked  them,  "  if  I 
wos  to  go  fur  to  tell  you  that  I  war  goin'  to  sea 
agin  ?" 

"  You  don't  mean  that  you  are  going  ?"  cried 
Henry. 

"  That  are  edzackly  wot  I  does  mean." 

"  But  why  ?" 

"  'Cos  there  is  some  things  I  got  to  settle  in  my 
mind  afore  I  kin  rest  ashore  fur  the  balance  o'  my 
nateral  life.  I  want  to  find  out  ef  that  there  Afri- 
can king's  darters  has  growed  up  civilized  or  can- 
nibals. I  want  to  go  and  see  wot  are  become  o' 
Thakelbolen's  kingdom.  I  want  to  see  ef  I  kin  dis- 
cover the  Boyking  Islands  agin.  I  want  to  know 
ef  that  feller  are  still  holdin'  on  to  the  north  pole. 
An'  most  of  all,  I  want  to  know  ef  the  queendom 
o'  Girlica  are  still  runnin'." 


THE    QUEBNDOM    OP   GIRLICA  187 

"  The  queendora  of  Girlica !"  exclaimed  George. 
"  What's  that  ?" 

"  Didn't  I  never  tell  you  'bout  that  ?" 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Henry. 

"I  told  you  'bout  the  Boyking  Islands,  didn't  I?" 

«  Yes." 

"  Well,  the  queendom  o'  Girlica  are — but  I'll  begin 
at  the  beginnin'  an'  tell  it  straight.  'Cos  w'y  ?  This 
are  the  last  yarn  wot  I'll  go  fur  to  tell  ye  afore  I  git 
under  way  fur  furrin  climes." 

After  pausing  a  few  minutes  to  allow  this  state- 
ment to  take  due  effect,  the  Old  Sailor  took  a  long 
look  around  the  horizon,  heaved  a  sigh,  shook  his 
head,  and  began  thus : 

"  W'ich  I  hope  I  may  never  eat  pie  agin  ef  this 
'ere  wa'n't  the  werry  identical  way  wot  it  happened. 
I  were  master  o'  the  ship  Fried  Clams,  bound  from 
Philadelphy  to  Yokohama  with  a  cargo  o'  Philadel- 
phy  ice  -  cream,  scrapple,  an'  peppermint  lozengers 
fur  the  Japanese  department  o'  edication  to  use  in 
edicatin'  their  women.  We  wos  bound  around  the 
Horn  fur  the  Pacific,  an'  we  had  good  'nuff  weath- 
er till  we  got  around  there.  Then  it  started  in  to 
blow,  an'  my  cracky,  but  we  got  it  in  the  eye  !  The 
seas  run  as  high  as  the  foreto'gall'nt-mast,  an'  the 
wind  blew  a  hundred  an'  fifty-one  an'  a  half  mile 
an  hour  by  actooal  measurement.  Howsumever,  al- 
though the  gale  lasted  fur  six  days,  we  rode  it  out 
without  any  ser'ous  loss,  savin'  an'  exceptin'  the  sec- 
ond-mate's red  suspenders,  w'ich  the  same  wos  car- 


188  SEA   YARNS   FOR   BOYS 

ried  away  the  third  day  by  reason  of  his  fallin' 
down  the  main  hatch  an'  landin'  in  the  scrapple. 
But  w'en  the  gale  were  over,  we  didn't  know  no 
more  about  w'ere  we  wos  than  a  bat  in  a  coal-mine. 
Ye  see,  the  sky  were  still  overcast,  an'  I  couldn't 
get  no  obserwation.  On  general  principles,  how- 
sumever,  I  sot  the  course  at  nothe,  an'  let  'er  go  at 
that.  We  hadn't  bin  a-runnin'  on  that  course  so 
werry  long  w'en  the  lookout  give  the  cry  o' '  Sail  ho  !' 
'Now,'  sez  I  to  myself,  sez  I,  'preehaps  this  'ere  ship 
'11  come  nigh  enough  fur  us  to  hail,  an'  we  kin  git 
our  reckonin'  from  'er.'  Sure  'miff,  we  soon  made 
out  that  she  were  comin'  that  way.  But  w'en  she 
got  near  'nuff  fur  us  to  git  a  good  look  at  her,  you 
kin  be  sure  we  done  some  mighty  tall  starin'.  My 
sons,  I've  seed  ships,  an'  ships,  an'  ships ;  but  I  'ain't 
never  seed  one  like  that  afore  or  since. 

"  Fust  of  all,  blamed  ef  her  sides  wa'n't  covered 
with  stamped  leather,  with  figgers  o'  birds  an'  flow- 
ers an'  all  sich  things  all  over  'em.  The  bowsprit 
were  painted  w'ite  an'  gold,  an'  had  a  red  scarf 
twisted  around  it  an'  the  ends  hangin'  down.  All 
along  the  top  o'  the  bulwarks  wos  laid  lace  tidies, 
an'  in  the  deck  ports  wos  brass  boxes  full  o'  flowers. 
The  sails  wos  all  made  o'  different  colored  silks,  em- 
broidered with  pink  parrots,  yaller  elephants,  blue 
dogs,  an'  orange  -  colored  ladies  with  brown  faces. 
The  cabin  were  painted  w'ite  an'  gold  like  the  bow- 
sprit, an'  had  a  reg'lar  roof-garden  on  top  o'  't.  Waal, 
we  stared  an'  stared,  an'  couldn't  say  a  word.  Byrne- 


"  '  YES  ;   THE  CAP'N  WERE  A  WOMAN  '  " 


THE    QUEENDOM    OF    GIRLICA  189 

by  she  come  in  hailin'  distance,  an'  then  her  cap'n 
went  up  on  the  poop — I  mean  the  roof-garden — an' 
hailed  us.  The  cap'n  had  on  a  straw  hat — wot  folks 
ashore  calls  a  sailor-hat — an'  a  blue  monkey-jacket 
an'  a  blue  skirt." 

"  Skirt  ?"  cried  the  boys. 

"  Yes  ;  the  cap'n  were  a  woman,  an'  the  nex'  thing 
we  seed  were  that  all  the  crew  wos  women.  In  short, 
the  ship  were  manned  by  women — or  rather  gals — 
ef  ye  kin  say  sich  a  thing.  The  cap'n  sung  out  to 
us — an'  it  were  reg'lar  singin',  too — to  know  wot 
wessel  we  wos  an'  w'ere  boun'  ;  w'ich  the  same,  de- 
sirin'  fur  to  be  perlite,  I  answered.  An'  then  she 
sez,  says  she,  'Wot's  yer  cargo?'  Now,  that  wa'n't 
none  o'  her  business  ;  but  still  I  didn'  want  to  do 
nawthin'  to  hurt  her  feelin's,  so  I  ups  and  tells  her, 
'Philadelphy  ice -cream,  scrapple,  and  peppermint 
lozengers.' 

"  'Oh,  gals!'  sez  she,  'did  you  hear  that?' 

"An'  they  all  'lowed  that  they  did.  Then  the 
cap'n,  she  sez,  sez  she : 

"'I'm  werry  sorry  fur  to  put  you  to  any  ill  con- 
venience, but  we  got  to  have  that  ice-cream.' 

" '  Young  lady,'  sez  I  to  she,  sez  I,  '  you  can't  git 
that  ice-cream.  It  are  for  the  Japanese  ladies.' 

" '  Ladies,  attention  !'  she  cried.  '  Aim  an'  turn  on, 
please.' 

"  Then  we  seed  'em  stickin'  half  a  dozen  hose- 
nozzles  over  the  side  at  us,  an'  we  laughed  fit  to  kill. 
But  the  nex'  minute  we  quit,  I  tell  you.  Them  there 


190  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

hoses  squirted  molasses  all  over  us,  an'  in  less  time 
'n  it  takes  to  tell  ye,  we  wos  all  covered  over  with 
the  bloomin'  sweet  an'  sticky  stuff  till  we  wa'n't  fit 
fur  our  own  comp'ny.  I  hollered  that  I'd  surrender, 
an'  I  heerd  the  other  cap'n  say, '  Thank  you,  ladies  ; 
that  will  do.'  The  squirtin'  stopped,  an'  they  low- 
ered away  a  boat.  It  were  manned  by  gals,  an' 
they  rowed  putty  good  too.  The  fust-mate  o'  the 
other  ship  come  aboard  us.  She  were  a  red-headed 
gal,  an'  had  a  mole  on  the  end  o'  her  nose,  but  she 
knowed  her  business.  She  said  as  how  she  an'  her 
boat's  crew  wos  to  stay  aboard  o'  us  an'  see  that  we 
done  wot  we  wos  told.  Our  orders  wos  to  f  oiler  the 
other  ship,  an'  a  light  breeze  springin'  up,  we  both 
got  under  way.  In  two  hours  land  were  sighted, 
an'  in  another  hour  we  wos  at  anchor  in  a  harbor 
under  the  lee  o'  a  werry  big  island,  with  mountains 
in  the  middle. 

" '  Wot  island  are  this  ?'  I  asks. 

"  '  This  are  the  Queendom  o'  Girlica,'  sez  the  mate, 
sez  she. 

"  *  An'  wot  are  that  ?'  sez  I  to  she,  sez  I. 

" '  The  land  o'  girls,'  sez  she  to  me,  sez  she.  *  You 
wait  till  you  go  ashore  an'  you'll  find  out  all  about  it.' 

"  W'ich  the  same  I  done.  The  cap'n  o'  the  putty 
ship,  w'ich  her  name  were  Hypatia  Bock,  she  took 
charge  o'  me.  I  s'posed,  o'  course,  that  I'd  be  took 
right  afore  the  queen  ;  but  Miss  Bock,  sez  she  to 
me,  sez  she :  *  Laws-a-massy,  no  !  No  men  is  allowed 
to  speak  to  the  queen.'  All  the  time  she  were  a-talkin' 


THE    QUEENDOM    OF    G1RLICA  191 

I  seed  she  had  somethin'  in  her  mouth;  but  I  didn't 
ax  no  questions.  'Cos  w'y  ?  I  had  to  wait  till  she 
got  through  a-tellin'  me  about  the  queen.  Wot  she 
told  me  were  this  :  'The  Queenclom  o'  Girlica  were 
a  land  w'ere  women  wos  boss,  an'  men  wa'n't.  The 
offices  o'  government  wos  all  held  by  women  an' 
gals,  an'  men  done  the  hired  work.  Furrin  men  wot 
come  ashore  there  wos  held  as  slaves  an'  put  to  work 
in  the  bakery.'  f  The  bakery  ?'  sez  I.  '  Oh  yes,'  sez 
she  to  me,  sez  she.  'We  got  a  tremenjous  bakery 
here,  an'  it  runs  day  an'  night.'  I  sez  to  her,  sez  I, 
'I  s'pose  you  all  must  eat  a  drefful  lot  o'  bread-an'- 
butter.'  '  Bread-an'-butter  ?'  sez  she.  '  Do  you  think 
we're  a  lot  o'  bread-an'-butter  misses  ?  I  want  you 
fur  to  go  fur  to  understan'  that  we  don't  eat  neither 
one.'  '  Wot  d'  ye  bake,  then  ?'  sez  I.  '  Cake,'  sez  she. 
'We  make  more  different  kinds  o'  cake  here  than  all 
the  other  countries  in  the  world  put  together.  We 
have  different  kinds  fur  breakfast,  fur  dinner,  fur 
supper,  an'  fur  lunch  afore  we  go  to  bed.'  'Wot 
d'  ye  do  about  no  butter?'  sez  I  to  she,  sez  I.  'Waal,' 
she  sez,  'we  use  molasses  instead.  Only  the  old 
women  have  that.  'Cos  w'y?  W'en  they  gets  to 
be  about  thirty  years,  old  the  cake  don't  taste  sweet 
no  more,  an'  so  they  put  molasses  on  to  it.' 

" '  But,'  sez  I  to  she,  sez  I, '  they  ain't  old  at  thirty, 
is  they  ?'  '  Oh,  no  woman  ever  gets  to  be  more'n 
thirty-five  here,'  sez  she.  '  How"  d'  ye  perwent  it  ?' 
sez  I.  '  Jess  stop  countin','  sez  she.  '  W'en  we  gets 
to  be  twenty-six,  we  stays  that  fur  five  years,  an'  so 


192  SEA    YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

on.  The  men  gets  old,  but  we  don't  mind  that.' 
'  Excuse  me,'  sez  I,  '  but  would  you  mind  a-tellin' 
me  wot  it  are  you're  a-eatin'  of  ?'  '  Oh,'  sez  she, 
pullin'  it  out  o'  her  mouth, '  that's  my  chewin'-gum, 
o'  course.  We  all  chews  it.  There's  a  royal  gov- 
ernment factory  w'ere  it  are  made  by  tons,  an'  give 
away  free.'  *  Free  ?'  sez  I.  '  Oh  yes,'  sez  she  ;  '  ef 
the  queen  was  to  cut  our  chewin'-gum  supply  short, 
we'd  rise  up  an'  yank  her  off  the  thi-one  so  quick 
she'd  never  know  wot  hit  her.'  Jess  then  I  seed  a 
large  number  o'  young  women  goin'  'long  the  street, 
an'  they  all  had  on  the  mos'  tremenjous  hats  I  ever 
seed  in  all  my  born  days.  '  Wot's  them  ?'  I  sez. 
'Them's  matinee  gals,'  sez  she.  'They  bin  to  the 
symphony  matinee  at  the  music-hall.'  'Then  you 
has  music,  an'  a  band  ?'  sez  I.  '  Sure,'  sez  she.  '  An' 
the  conductor  are  jess  too  sweet  fur  anythin'.  He 
has  the  mos'  beautiful  hands  in  the  world,  an'  his 
hair  falls  right  down  to  his  waist,  an'  his  eyes,  w'en 
he  looks  over  his  glasses,  is  jess  heavingly.'  'An' 
wot  kind  o'  music  do  he  give  ?'  sez  I.  '  Oh,'  sez  she, 
'  symphonies  an'  things.  But  he  are  jess  too  sweet !' 
'  But  w'y  do  them  gals  all  wear  sich  big  hats  ?'  sez  I. 
'  That's  ,the  fashion.  The  gal.that  kin  wear  the  big- 
gest hat  without  gettin'  a  sore  neck  from  carryin'  it 
are  allowed  extra  cake  on  Sunday  nights.'  I  won- 
dered how  they  carried  them  hats  at  all,  but  I  didn't 
say  nawthin'  fur  fear  o'  offendin'. 

"  Nex'  thing  I  axed  her  were  wot  they  had  in  the 
way  o'  intellectooal  amoosements  besides  the  music. 


"  '  IT'S    JUST    TOO    AWFULLY,  DELICIOUSLY    SWEET  !'  " 


THE    QUEENDOM    OF    GIRLICA  193 

'  Waal,'  sez  she,  '  there's  the  dress  debates.'  '  Wot 
is  them  ?'  sez  I  to  she,  sez  I.  '  They  is  werry  excitin',' 
sez  she  to  me,  sez  she.  'Twicet  a  week,'  sez  she, 
'we  meets  in  the  great  public  hall,  an'  the  Lady 
High  Chancellor  presides,  an'  the  Fust  Maid  o'  the 
Chambers  acts  as  secretary.  We  all  sits  aroun',  an' 
looks  kind  o'  uncomf'table  till  some  lady  sez  she 
doesn't  care,  or  somethin'  like  that,  but  she's  goin' 
to  have  her  nex'  dress  made  with  accordion-pleated 
insertion  down  the  bias,  an'  leg-o'-mutton  flounces.' 
Mebbe  them  wasn't  her  edzack  words,  but  it  sound- 
ed like  'em.  '  Waal,'  she  went  on,  'as  soon  as  some 
one  sez  somethin'  like  that,  then  we  all  begins  to 
talk  at  oncet  about  dresses,  an'  how  we  like  'em  made, 
an'  how  we're  goin'  to,  an'  all  that ;  an'  it's  jess  too 
puffickly  lovely  fur  anythin'.  An'  bymerby  the  men- 
servants  comes  in  an'  passes  aroun'  cake  an'  molaS" 
ses  an'  soda-water,  an'  then  we  goes  home.' 

"  'An'  wot  kind  o'  games  does  you  have?'  I  axed 
her.  'Oh,  lots  an'  lots,'  sez  she!  'There's  cuttin' 
samples — that's  a  lovely  game.'  'How  d'  ye  play 
it  ?'  sez  I.  '  Wy,'  sez  she,  '  we're  blindfolded,  an' 
have  a  pair  o'  scissors.  Then  we're  turned  aroun' 
three  times,  an'  started  off.  Wotever  we  run  up 
ag'in'  we  try  to  cut  a  piece  off  fur  a  sample.  Some- 
times we  cut  corners  off  the  lace  curtains,  or  leaves 
off  the  plants;  but  wot  we  tries  to  do,  o'  course,  is 
to  catch  some  other  woman,  an'  cut  a  piece  off'n  her 
dress.'  'But  don't  that  spoil  her  dress?'  sez  I.  'O' 
course,'  sez  she,  '  but  then  don't  she  have  all  the  fun 
13 


194  SEA   YARNS    FOR    BOYS 

o'  goin'  shoppin'  fur  another?  But  the  finest  o'  all 
our  games  are  the  game  o'  barg'in  counter.'  'An' 
how  d'  ye  play  that  ?'  sez  I  to  she,  sez  I.  '  Wy,  fust 
of  all,'  sez  she,  'we  all  dresses  up  in  our  walkin' 
costumes,  an'  then  we  goes  down  to  the  great  store- 
house. The  doors  is  kep'  closed,  an'  we  all  crowds 
aroun'  outside  tryin'  to  git  in.  The  men  inside  set 
out  a  lot  o'  goods  on  the  counter,  an'  go  to  work 
markin'  down  the  prices.  We  kin  see  'em  thro'  the 
glass  doors,  an'  we  all  gits  excited.  Wen  they're 
all  ready  they  hangs  up  a  sign,  "  Barg'in  Sale,"  an' 
throws  open  the  doors.  Then  you  ort  to  see  the 
fun!  Some  women  gets  knocked  down  an'  walked 
on,  others  has  their  dresses  torn  all  to  pieces,  an' 
others  gits  some  o'  their  ribs  broke.  'Cos  w'y? 
The  game  are  to  see  who  can  git  to  the  counter  fust, 
an'  grab  the  marked-down  goods.  Interference  are 
allowed,  an'  sides  are  chosen  sometimes.  Anyhow, 
six  or  eight  women  kin  make  a  team  an'  work  to- 
gether. You  jess  ort  to  see  me  an'  my  three  sisters, 
each  five  feet  ten  inches  tall,  an'  weighin'  a  hundred 
an'  seventy-five  pounds  each,  git  in  line  one  behind 
the  other,  an'  butt  our  way  through  the  crowd  with 
heads  down.  It's  jess  too  awfully  deliciously  sweet, 
that's  wot  it  are!'  'W'y,  that  are  a  good  deal  like 
football,'  sez  I.  'I  don't  know  nothin'  about  no  foot- 
ball,' sez  she,  'but  barg'in  counter  are  the  finest  game 
on  'arth,'  An'  her  eyes  flashed  as  she  thort  about  it. 
"  Jess  then  a  gal  in  a  blue  bonnet,  with  a  gold 
star  on  the  front  of  it,  comes  along.  '  That  are  the 


THE    QUEENDOM    OF    GIRLICA  195 

Chief  o'  P'lice,'  sez  Miss  Bock,  sez  she.  The  chief 
she  comes  right  up  to  us,  an'  she  sez,  sez  she :  '  The 
queen's  orders  is  that  these  'ere  strange  men  wot 
you've  captured  is  to  onload  that  Philadelphy  ice- 
cream right  away,  so's  it  can  be  et  with  the  cake 
afore  goin'  to  bed  to-night.  Arter  that  they  is  to 
be  taken  an'  sot  to  work  in  the  chewin'-gum  shops.' 
Then  the  chief  walked  away,  swingin'  her  fan  like 
it  wos  a  club.  Waal,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I'd 
got  to  git  myself  an'  my  crew  out  o'  that  country  o' 
Girlica.  'Cos  w'y  ?  'Twa'n't  no  place  fur  men.  So 
right  away  I  thort  o'  a  beautiful  scheme,  an'  sez  I  to 
Miss  Bock,  sez  I, '  Ye  mus'  know  that  this  'ere  Phila- 
delphy ice-cream  wot  I  got  ain't  no  plain  waneller  ; 
it  are  tutti-frutti,  that's  wot  it  are,  an'  you'll  find  it 
putty  rich.'  '  Oh,'  sez  she,  '  that  are  jess  splendid.' 
Werry  good.  I  goes  off  to  my  ship,  an'  I  sot  the 
crew  to  work  a^puttin'  the  scrapple  an'  the  pepper- 
mint-drops right  into  the  ice-cream.  Wen  they 
got  thro'  it  was  the  tutti-fruttiest  ice-cream  wot 
ye  ever  seed;  Did  them  gals  eat  it?  Waal,  I  jesa 
guess  they  did.  An'  about  the  middle  o'  the  night 
the  entire  female  pop'lation  o'  Girlica  were  laid  out 
with  more  different  kinds  o'  cramps  than  any  doctor 
ever  heerd  of.  An'  so,  with  the  p'lice  force  an'  the 
army  so  helpless  they  couldn't  do  nothin'  but  lay  on 
to  their  backs  an'  kick,  an'  holler  fur  hot-water  bags, 
I  had  nothin'  to  do  but  to  steal  boats,  git  my  crew 
off  to  the  ship,  an'  git  under  way.  An'  that  were  the 
last  I  ever  seed  or  heerd  o'  the  queendom  o'  Girlica." 


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